Dad
by SironaFlett .o.x.o
Summary: House is unable to save Cuddy from Cancer. Before she dies she asks House for one thing. Now Thirteen years on... House has found himself to be a father to a child he never thought he could accept. Inspired by K's Choice "DAD"
1. Cuddy

House watched Lisa, lying on the hospital bed, dying of an illness that he could not save her from.

Cancer. Stage four, systemic small cell lung cancer that had spread into her heart, crushing her entire chest. Wilson's diagnosis was grim, but the oncologist had rechecked several times and House had helped him.

There was nothing they could do.

Now Lisa Cuddy, sat on her hospital bed, draped in wires monitoring her heartbeat, her BP… Everything was monitored and calculated. She knew her days were coming to an end. In shaking arms, Lisa held baby Rachel. She cooed and stroked her hair, watching her play with the blanket.

And House watched. From behind the glass House watched her. The only woman he had ever really given a crap about, apart from Stacy, was dying.

Wilson stood behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"House," He said quietly. "She needs you,"

House looked away.

"No," He said. "She need a cure."

"Yes,"Wilson agreed. "She needs that. But she also needs to know that the time that you guys shared... Well she needs to know that it didn't last months. Not in your eyes. She needs to know that your time together was the best and that you tried everything to make her life better," He left.

House tapped his cane, thinking. Finally, he sighed, and slid open the ward doors.

"Greg," Cuddy said weakly. She held Rachel closer. House limped forward. He motioned that he could take her foster child into his arms. Cuddy smiled gratefully and as House sat down, she placed her child into his arms.

House watched Rachel curl her tiny fingers, gently touching his cheek. He watched her silently.

Cuddy lay back down on her bed, watching them both.

"Greg," She said silently.

House looked up.

"I'm dying," She said. "And I don't want to leave without saying…" She sighed and coughed. "Greg, I love you," She said.

House looked at her. He placed his hand against her face. Their lips pressed together for a moment.

"I love you too," He said. "These last few months... Okay... They're not in the most ideal of situations..." Cuddy smiled slightly. "But... For me at least... They were truly the best. I think that, if we had more time... Then we could have been something truly amazing."

She whispered. "I want you to take care of Rachel after I'm gone."

House was startled. "But Wilson-"

"I don't Wilson to raise her." Cuddy replied. "I want you to."

"But I'll screw the kids life up," House replied. "I've screwed mine up,"

Cuddy shook her head sleepily. "I think that you would make an excellent father to her… Please House," She said. "For me?"

…

House held Rachel close as Cuddy died. He could not match the pain that was now rippling through his body. He sat down on a vinyl chair, head in hand. There was a funny sound… He realised that the sound was coming from him. A noise like heart retching sobs, his chest felt tight and Greg House began to cry.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.


	2. Thirteen Years Later

House had Wilson over at the apartment. Of course he had moved across the hall to accommodate the extra human now sharing his life. He had moved as soon as he had been granted custody by the state of New Jersey and he was adamant that he would make different arrangements. He had to do this for Cuddy. House of course got the room that was nearest to the bathroom. Age had not treated him well.

"Do you have any idea when she'll be home?" Wilson asked, flicking through the channels. He had married again and was now father to two kids… House forgot their names, though he was made godfather the instant Wilson announced he was going to be a dad.

House shook his head, and took out a vicodin.

"House, you don't know where your own daughter is?" Wilson asked.

"One," House said. "She is not my daughter, two she knows the rules, if she stays out for longer than I have required, she knows that it is straight back to social services, three, do I look like I care?"

He got up and limped towards the kitchen. "Fancy a beer?"

Wilson got up and followed him. "You shouldn't threaten her with outrageous claims that you'll throw her back into foster care. I mean for a start, she has never been to social care; that was just a lie that you made up so she would follow your rules."

"So?" House shrugged. "I'm her guardian."

"And plus, I think you do care," Wilson said. "About her at least and maybe perhaps because she is Cuddy's daughter,"

"Technically no," House said. "Um, she was a patient's daughter, but Cuddy adopted her and after Cuddy died, I was appointed guardian."

There was a click at the lock and Rachel came in. She threw her bag down at the door.

"Dad?" She called. "I'm home!"

Wilson looked at House. "You still haven't told her?" He hissed.

"Oh, shut up!" House muttered. "Hey Rachel," He said. "I'm in the kitchen!"

Rachel bounded into the room. She was beginning to become a beautiful young women, she was already beginning to show signs of maturity way beyond her years. Her hair was gently curled and fell across her pretty green eyes. Wilson looked at her for a long moment.

"Hey Uncle Jimmy," Rachel beamed. "Dad, are you seriously going to try and make pork chops again? I thought we agreed that I do the pork chops and you do the pasta tomorrow."

House smiled. "I know, just getting a beer," He moved to take a drink. Rachel grabbed it from his hands.

"What have I told you?" She said, annoyed. "Beer and vicodin do not mix well together."

House sighed. "You always tell me. I just don't like listening."

"Dad," Rachel put her hands on her hips, her face stern. "Get out of the kitchen before I place a cleaver through your forehead. Although being a doctor, you could probably mend it."

House nodded. "Fine," He looked at her, observing quietly. He sighed. "Alright Rachel, what CD do you want this time?"

Rachel beamed. She rattled off a couple of band names that Wilson didn't recognise. House nodded.

"Alright," He said. "I'll get them, as long as you finish your homework tonight."

He limped back into the living room, Wilson following.

"House," Wilson said.

"James?" House replied, innocently.

"Why haven't you told her?" He asked. "I thought you were all for the truth!"

House sighed and rubbed his leg. Something he did when he thought about… Her…

"She's too…" House pressed his lips together, trying to think. "Vulnerable…"

"So?" Wilson said. "That never stopped you before."

"Well it is important now," He replied as Rachel clattered around the kitchen. "Wilson, I don't want to end up screwing her life up. I don't want to be like my father. I want her to love and respect me, not fear and hate me."

He looked over Wilson's shoulder. "Rachel? What did you learn at school today?"

Rachel poked her head around the kitchen archway. "You don't really care, dad." She said. "You just want to know, because it makes you seem like the caring father you think you need to be."

Wilson looked at House. "Well, she's certainly picked up a rather good talent for picking up the insignificant details." He said.

House nodded.

Rachel looked at them. "Jimmy, are you staying for tea, or are you going back to Margaret's?"

Wilson looked around. He picked up his jacket.

"No, Rachel," He said. "I gotta go, the in-laws are in town and I said I'd be back after I've worked on some hospital business."

Rachel and House frowned. "You are such a liar, will you marry me?" House asked.

"Dad," Rachel warned. "Alright Jimmy, I guess we'll see you next week."

Wilson nodded and left. House watched his friend scuttle out the door and run off to his car parked in the drive. Rachel came back into the living room and began to tidy up after her father's mess. She picked up a blue file.

"Case?" She asked.

House nodded.

"Complicated?"

House didn't reply. "Rachel," He said silently. "There are some things I gotta tell you,"


	3. Boxes

Rachel watched her father hobble onto the step ladder. He reached slowly and silently onto the top shelf and grabbed a heavy wooden box from the top. Rachel grabbed it from her father's arms and held his hand as he climbed down.

"Jesus, dad," She said. "You're going to kill yourself."

House smiled a little as Rachel helped him sit on the couch. She rested the box beside him, and then went to get her father a vicodin. House opened the box and pulled out some of the paper inside.

Rachel sat beside him, handing him a tiny white pill. He took it gratefully. She looked at the woman in the photo.

"Is that mom?" She asked.

House nodded, he sighed. "Rachel," He said. "Lisa Cuddy wasn't your real mother."

"Don't be ridiculous, dad," She replied. "Of course she's my mother. You always told me she was."

House shook his head. "Rachel, before I tell you this, you need to know… I love you so much. And I wouldn't tell you this if it wasn't true. But… These past thirteen years, I seem to have forgotten who I am."

"Dad, what are you saying?" Rachel asked.

House sighed. "I'm not, your biological father. And Lisa Cuddy was never your biological mother."

"You told me her name was Lisa House." Rachel said. "You got married to her!"

House looked grave. "You're real mother was a sixteen year old patient of mine. She died of a pregnancy related disease… I couldn't save her. Lisa… She took kindness to a new level and she adopted you."

"But the cancer part is true… She did die of cancer..?" Rachel seemed uncertain.

House nodded. "Yeah, that part is true. Lisa and I… Well we were never involved. But she chose me to raise you… I don't know exactly why…"

He reached deeper into the box and pulled out a small envelope. He gave it to Rachel.

"What's this?" She asked.

"When Lisa found out she was dying of cancer," House said. "She wrote you a letter that you could read when you were older. I haven't read it, and I don't want to know what's in it. It is your letter. Not mine."

Rachel stared at him.

"You've read it haven't you?"

House looked at her.

"Why do you always assume the worst of me?" He asked.

Rachel leapt to her feet. "I don't know, maybe because you lied to me for the first thirteen years of my life? You tricked me into believing that you were my real father and _she _was my real mother… You lie, cheat and steal in your practice, why not do it at home too?!"

She bounded out of the room, still clutching the letter and slammed her bedroom door. House could hear her crying. He sighed and limped behind her. He wrapped his knuckles hard on the door.

"Rachel open up," He said. "please?"

"GO AWAY!" She shouted. "You're a fucking lying bastard! I Fucking hate you! Leave me the fuck alone!"

House banged his head on the door, gritting his teeth with silent frustration. "Rachel," He said. "I'm not going to pretend that what I did was the right thing… or even the best thing for you. But, I thought that if you could be brought up with a normal happy family in mind."

"Fuck Off!" Rachel shouted.

"No!" House snapped, getting quite pissed at her language. "Rachel, you gotta hear me out."

"Why should I?" She cried. "Is any of it real? Your infarction? Stacy, Tritter, Vogler, your addiction, rehab, Cut-throat bitch… Was that all a lie too?"

"You know my infarction was real," He replied. "You have seen the scars, you've seen me at my worst. I have told you nothing but truth… Just not the truth about your real mother and…" He sighed. "I really do love you and I did love your mother."

Silence.

"I remember the first time that you and I actually bonded." House continued. "Do you want to hear it?"

Silence.

"Good, cause I was going to tell you anyway." House slumped on the floor.


	4. Memories

_Rachel was sleeping in the tiny cot. House was watching her. What the hell was he doing? He wasn't cut out to be a father. Why hadn't Cuddy entrusted Wilson with her child? Wilson was a lot more caring, a lot more dopey eyed than House. Even House admitted that he was the last person who should care for a kid. But Cuddy wanted him to take care of this child that she called her daughter. In his hand he clutched Cuddy's letter. He was thinking whether he should open it or not. _

_Rachel yawned and House smiled, just a little. Mother's often thought that their baby was the most precious, most beautiful thing alive. Cuddy had a right to think that Rachel was adorable, but House couldn't exactly see the appeal. Babies were smelly, annoying, whining brats and that was a general fact. But House had known this child… Her history… Could he be the father he wanted? Could House become the father that he wanted from his own childhood? House felt all his insecurities return to him. He couldn't take care of Rachel, he'd screw up her life with his constant pain addiction, erratic job, his early morning piano concerts everything that made House, House was almost an impossible thing for a young child to live with._

_He went through to the living room, still wrapped in his concerns and tried to unload some of the boxes. He had just moved here last week and aside from Wilson taking all Rachel's things from Cuddy's to House's new apartment, House had not been yet able to create an environment that suited him and this new person in his life. He had so many things to do; taxes, mortgages. He had no idea about this sorta stuff. How could he handle a baby when he could barely take care of himself? _

_Absorbed in his own thoughts, he did not notice that Rachel was crying. He sighed and went through to her room and placed his cane against her tiny white chest of drawers. He checked her temperature, checked her diaper, tried to feed her… Nothing worked. He picked her up, rocking her slowly in his arms._

"_Why won't you stop crying?" He asked mournfully. She looked up at him. "Please… Rachel…"_

_Suddenly, her tiny face broke into a smile. _

"_That's it?" He asked. "All I needed was to say your name?" _

_She blinked at him. He smiled softly. She gurgled happily and reached up to touch his scruffy face with her little hand. He let her touch his cheek, smiling gently at her. _

"_Hey," He whispered. "You barmy, eccentric monster,"_

_She gurgled again, it lit up House's heart like a fire. She curled her tiny fingers around House's pinky finger and put it in her mouth. He watched her do so. _

"_What am I going to do with you?" He said. He picked up his cane, holding Rachel close as he limped through to the living room. It was a difficult thing to do and House was terrified that he would drop her. He pushed the boxes of the couch and sat down. Rachel was now grasping his shirt. He smiled watching her. _

"_I am going to make your life so wonderful," He promised. "I'm going to be the best daddy ever. I love you Rachel and I will always love you. I promise." _

…

House blinked, as a little tear dribbled down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away and sighed. Rachel had not made a sound. He got up slowly, making sure he wouldn't hurt himself.

"Rachel," He said, gently tapping her door. "Listen, I understand if you don't want to talk to me, but just so you know, I do love you."

Her door clicked open. She looked up at him with her gorgeous green eyes. They were rimmed red because of the tears that were making their way down her face.

"Do you really love me?" She asked, quietly.

House smiled gently and tucked her hair behind her left ear.

"I don't think I've ever stopped loving you," He said. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I am so grateful to be apart of your life."

Rachel wiped her tears away with her sleeve. "I love you too."

House held out his arms and she ran into him, holding him tightly.

"Do I still get to call you 'dad'?" She asked.

House smirked. "Yeah," He nodded. "Call me whatever you want." He kissed her forehead. "Bastard however is not acceptable."

Rachel smiled.

"Do you want to open your letter?" House asked.

Rachel blinked and remembered that Cuddy's note was still in her hand. She nodded. "I do," She said.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" House continued.

Rachel shook her head. "Read it with me,"


	5. Letters from a Distant Past

Rachel sat down on her bed, House beside her. Her room had been decorated according to what every girl her age liked. There were several posters of bands that House recognised, mainly because she had bribed him into getting her tickets to see them. Along one of the walls there were shelves and shelves of books. Mostly old leather bound ones that she had gotten out of the charity shop. The books were listed alphabetically then categorized into Non-fiction, fiction, biographies, music, autobiographies, and then preference. She obviously inherited the trait from her birth parents because House was not one to categorize. Her computer sat on a desk, password locked of course. Her closet was slightly ajar, revealing most of her clothes. House trusted her enough to buy her own clothes because when he tried, he usually bought the wrong thing and if it was the right thing it was usually two sizes too big or two sizes too small. On top of a chest of drawers sat a fish tank with exotic tropical fish. Initially, she wanted a pet snake, but House put his foot down.

She curled up on the bed and with shaking hands she opened the letter. Breathing hard, she pulled the paper out and carefully unfolded it.

_Rachel,_

_If you are reading this, then House must have told you who your real parents are. I asked him not to give this to you until he thought you were old enough, or at least until Wilson nagged him enough to get him to do it. Their names were Natalie and Simon, Natalie is dead of course, I have no idea about your birth father you may be able to track him if you wish. I only wish that I saw you grow up to be the beautiful woman I know you would have become. I left you in the guardianship of Greg, because, I know I was the last thing keeping him alive, the only reason for him to continue living. It would destroy him if I left him without… something to love. I knew he always loved me, and don't get me wrong, he is a pill-popping, sardonic, sarcastic, annoying bastard. But I never told him how I felt about him; I could not leave him without some sort of lifeline. I always knew that he wanted to be apart of your life, from the very first moment that I adopted you. I may not have been your birth mother, but in my heart, you were always mine and Greg's child. A happy family just like it was supposed to be. As he gets older, he will need you more and more. I wish I didn't have this tumour, because it separates us every day. As I write these words, I realise now that my time is short. You will never remember me, but I hope that Greg will be true to my memory. I love you so much, and even though it was difficult making a connection with you at the start, I knew that you would be a very important part of my life. I love you with all my heart, and I love your father. I wish that I could have had more time just a little more so that I could truly belong to your father. _

_I love you so much._

_Mom x_

Rachel looked up at her father. Her hands shook, and tears dripped down her cheeks. House took the letter from her and let his crystal blue eyes skim over Cuddy's handwriting. He sighed.

"She was always the sentimental old fool," House muttered. He noticed his daughter's tears. He sighed and placed an arm around her shoulders. She snuggled up next to him, crying into his shirt. House held her close as they mourned Cuddy.

….

Rachel fell asleep in House's arms. He realised this at around about 11pm. Slowly and gently he rested her on her bed, taking off her shoes and school jumper. He moved her schoolwork off her bed and tucked her in. Beside the picture of her mother, he rested Cuddy's letter. He kissed her forehead and limped through to the front room.

He poured himself some bourbon and took a long swig, thinking of what Cuddy had written. He sighed and sat down on the couch, resting his eyes. He pulled out a tiny letter from his back pocket. It was from Simon. House sighed glanced over the words and slipped it back into his pocket. He was now a law attorney in California. House new that Simon wanted to see her. He just, didn't know if she wanted to meet him.

…

Rachel lumbered through to the front room early the next morning. She was still dressed in her school clothes. She saw her father sleeping on the couch. She sighed and shook him awake.

House gasped suddenly and clutched his leg. "Shit," He muttered.

"I keep telling you, the couch does not substitute as a bed." Rachel said. "Jesus, dad,"

House grimaced and sat up. "Fetch me a vicodin," He muttered.

Rachel nodded. After he had taken the white pill, Rachel helped him limp through to his bedroom. Once in on the bed, House looked up at her.

"How are you?" He asked.

Rachel sighed and sat next to him. "I've… I've been better,"

"You don't need to go to school today," House said. "You can take the day off."

Rachel was already shaking her head. "No, you have to go to work. Besides, going to school will take my mind off things."

House nodded. "You sure?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "Its okay dad, I'll be okay."

"Are you lying?" House asked. "I think you're lying."

"Of course I'm lying," Rachel rolled her eyes and kissed her father's cheek. "I'm gonna get going," She said. "Don't head in until you've got a proper sleep."

House nodded. "I'll see you tonight."

Rachel smiled and left. House yanked his cell out of his pocket and called a number.

"Hey, it's Greg, are you in town today?" House asked.


	6. New Jersey Child Protection Agency

There was a loud knock at the door. House jumped a little… He wasn't expecting anyone. Frowning, he grabbed his cane and pushed himself off the chair. There was another knock. House looked at his leg with some hate for a moment and limped to the door, contemplating whether or not it was a good idea to open it. Sighing, he unlocked the door and opened it slightly.

"Gregory House?" A stern female voice asked.

"He's not in," House replied. "I'm his cook, can I pass a message,"

House peered out. The woman looked important. Behind her stood Joe the Muscle man. House opened the door further. This was not a good thing, his instincts told him.

The woman flashed a badge. It wasn't police, nor was it a lawyer badge. House couldn't tell what it was.

The woman looked at House for a moment. "May we come in?" She asked.

……

She stared at her book, not really caring for the words on the page. She was too busy thinking about what happened.

She knew it didn't change as a person. No huge revelation ever did that. Her dad had told her. She frowned. She felt weird using that title now. She wasn't sure whether to call him Greg, Gregory or to continue calling him dad. But now she didn't know if her thoughts were heredity or if she had just copied them from House. Was her name legally Rachel House, or was it something else? Did she get her looks from her birth mom or dad? Or had she fashioned her looks to resemble Greg? She didn't know. She sighed, knowing one thing. She loved House, whether he was biologically linked to her or not. To her, he would always be known as dad. She knew her own mind well enough to say that House could never be replaced. Besides he needed her. Rachel had seen him through the tougher years. As he had gotten older, his leg had gotten worse. He was heading for retirement soon. Rachel knew that she couldn't go looking for her biological father… There were all sorts of rules and regulations to do so. Besides… Greg might not approve.

She frowned again hating the idea of calling her dad "Greg". She didn't see him as a "Greg"… To her, he was dad. Nothing could really change that. She pressed her hand on her cheek. It felt wet. She then realised she was crying. It was a strange feeling… She blinked back the tears and sighed, putting down her book.

She was sitting on her own. She always sat on her own… But today… She felt as if having friends wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. She had friends… But, like House, she hadn't let them rule her life, she hadn't made them her most pressing priority. She knew that friends in high school never really stayed together. They drifted apart more often than not so what was the point in trying to keep them?

House… Greg… He had always told her that she needn't change for anyone. No matter how much she loved them or wanted to be apart of their life, she should never feel the need to change who she was. Because, if they wanted to be apart of her life, then they would accept her for who she was. Not who she could be.

Now Rachel was wondering about all the possibilities. If her mother had lived, would she have had more friends around her? Would she feel happier?

Well that was nonsense. Rachel thought. '_I am happy, I'm independent, I'm happier than most people because I know who I am.'_

She sighed. He had to tell her the truth. She needed to know. He had always been an advocate for the truth, and he couldn't die a hypocrite.

She nodded to herself. Yes. Greg House was her father. Nothing would change that.

…….

Rachel opened the door and flung her schoolbag to the side.

"Dad?" She called. "I'm home! Listen I thought we could-" She stopped mid-sentence to see the woman and the cop sitting on her father's couch. House sat on the reclining chair, his head in his hands. He looked up.

"Dad?" She asked. "What the hell is going on?"

The woman stood up. "My name is Eileen Smith," She announced. "Rachel House, we are here to take you into Child Protection."

"What?" Rachel asked. "No, I live with my father."

"Not anymore," Eileen said. "Go pack a suitcase; you will be living in foster care until Mr House can win legal rights to you."

"But he's my dad," Rachel argued. "I'm not leaving!"

Eileen sighed. "Listen; there have been serious allegations about Mr House's ability to take care of you-"

"Like what?" Rachel shouted. "He has never laid a finger on me, he hasn't abused me, ever!"

"We are not allowed to disclose why," Eileen said. "But you have to come with me."

House stood up and limped to Rachel's bedroom. "I'll pack your bags," He muttered.

"Dad, no!" Rachel shouted. She strode out of the room after him. She opened her bedroom door to find him packing her clothes into a large suitcase. She grabbed the shirt from him and stuffed it angrily back into her wardrobe.

House sighed and picked it out again. She made a move to grab it from his hands. "Rachel no," He said sternly, anger reeling off his tongue. "You are going,"

"Dad, I live with you," She argued. "I'm not leaving,"

House turned to her, his bright eyes burning angrily. "Rachel, you will do what I say," He seethed. "These people have come with serious allegations against me, if you resist going with them, it is likely I'll end up in deeper shit than I am in now."

"But…" Rachel sat on the bed. "What have you done that would have prompted this?" She asked.

House sighed and folded up a shirt. "I don't know," He replied. "Rachel, this is so sudden, I had no idea this would happen. I swear I haven't killed anyone recently."

"They won't tell you?" Rachel asked.

House shook his head and limped over to the wardrobe. He grabbed a couple of jeans and a few skirts. He held up a rather small rock t-shirt.

"Do you want to take this?" He asked.

"No," She said. "Because, they have nothing against you, I'll be back soon."

House sighed again. His hands rested on the suitcase rim. "I don't know about that," He said.

"Dad, please, today is not the day for your mindless pessimism," Rachel said.

He turned to her, tears glistening in his eyes. Rachel drew back. She had never seen her father cry. His blue eyes were even more prominent. His entire body convulsed and he sat on her bed. Rachel sat beside him. He placed an arm around her and kissed her forehead.

"I love you kid," He muttered. "I really do,"

Rachel held her dad close. "I love you too, dad." She felt him smile.

Eileen tapped on the doorframe. "C'mon kid," She said. "Let's not make this harder than it is."

Rachel wiped her eyes and grabbed a few more items from her room. She ran off to the bathroom to get her toiletries and to wash her face. She returned after a few minutes and threw the things into the suitcase. House stood up and walked her to the door. Eileen placed a gentle hand on Rachel's shoulder, but she threw it off. She hugged her father tightly, crying into his t-shirt. House held her close, relishing the embrace.

Then Rachel left. House watched as the only other human being he cared about drove away into the night for some unknown reason. He shut the door behind him and limped into her bedroom. He stared at the different things that she owned. Then, holding her oldest soft toy, a raggedy bunny with ears falling off, he fell onto her bed, wishing that she was still here.

**Well? What do you think? I really want to involve everyone from House's past but you'll have to wait for the following chapters. I had to make some sort of threat that could potentially destroy House and remove Rachel from his life. Don't worry, a better more comfortable House shall be written in the following Chapters, because I kinda based this version of him on my own father (Who funnily enough is called Hugh) Please Read and Review and tell me what you think!**

**I'll love you forever if you do!**


	7. Suspicions

The elevator doors slid open. House looked out and saw Wilson walking slowly towards his office.

"Hey!" He shouted, limping after the oncologist. "Wilson!"

Wilson sighed and turned around. "Greg, I thought tomorrow was the day you started your new job as a highway henchmen. "

"Was that supposed to be funny?" House asked, towering over his friend.

"Was that supposed to be rhetorical?" Wilson asked.

"You know bloody well what you've done!" House shouted. "Wilson you know she is my entire life!"

Wilson frowned. "Are we role-playing? I don't want to be the husband who doesn't know what he's done."

"New Jersey Child protection agency came to my apartment, claiming that there were serious allegations against my ability to raise her." House said.

Wilson looked shocked. "They took Rachel away?" He asked incredulously.

House frowned. "No, they lay me down on the bed and raped me until she came home."

"Okay, your sarcasm is probably the worst defence you could use right now," Wilson said. "Just nod or shake your head."

"So it wasn't you?" He asked.

"Why would I do that?" Wilson asked. "Cuddy left Rachel with you, you did it all by the book, you took my advice and told Rachel about her parents. There is absolutely no justification for me to ring social services."

House knew this was right. Wilson had no logical justification, let alone a legal justification. He sighed. "It's just…" He bit his lip. "You know my history; you know everything that I've been through…"

Wilson sighed. "Mm… Have you contacted a lawyer?"

House shook his head. "No lawyer will vouch for me anymore," He said. "I've lost, I'm never going to get her back."

Wilson placed a gentle hand on House's shoulder. "Don't worry," He said. "We'll figure this out."

House nodded.

"Have you spoken to Foreman?" The oncologist asked.

"What would Foreman have to do with anything?" House snapped.

"He might know who put the allegations against your name, c'mon; I'll walk you to his office."

….

House made a point of never having to visit Eric Foreman's office. The fact was that he hated the idea of Foreman having more power than him. Well that was the argument he put across to Wilson. The real reason was that Foreman now owned Cuddy's office. It didn't seem right. Every time House waltzed into that office with a crazy claim that a guys head was going to blow up unless House cut into spleen, he half expected it to be Cuddy sitting behind the desk ready to evade him. House made a stand against arguing with Foreman over guys brains. Foreman knew House better than anyone on the staff and was not afraid to oppose him.

Wilson and House both entered whilst Foreman was on the telephone.

He looked up, sighed and said. "Do you mind if I call you back? Kid's just got into my office." He grinned. "Yeah, the gruesome twosome,"

House and Wilson looked at each other. Foreman put down the telephone. "Whatever it is, you better have a legit responsible reason for cutting into the guys head, not just his brain might explode."

House sighed and sat on the sofa, Wilson folded his arms.

"Did I say something?" Foreman asked.

"Rachel was taken into Child Protection last night," Wilson said.

Foreman glanced at House who was rubbing his leg, head on the handle of his cane.

"Do you know why?" He asked.

"That's why we came to you," House said. "Maybe you heard something, or you could use your amazing administrative skills to find out."

Foreman looked at the broken man and typed into the computer. Once he had found what he was looking for, he picked up the telephone and dialled a number.

Wilson turned to House, hands stuck in his white coat. "So you have no idea what could have…." He didn't bother finishing his trailing sentence.

House looked up. "Would I be in here if I did know?"

Wilson said nothing. He paced silently in the office while Foreman waited for his call to be redirected. He sat up suddenly.

"Yes, this is Dr Eric Foreman, Dr House's employer," He said. "Am I to understand that his daughter Rachel House has been taken into custody?" He stopped listening to the voice on the other end. "I understand that you can't divulge the intimate details, but are you able to inform me of what the allegations are?" He paused, and then grabbed a pen and notepad, he didn't write though. "Right. I understand. Of course… What about who made the allegations?" He stopped. "Who? Never mind, was Dr House rude to them…" He sighed. "Very well, thank you for your time."

He put the phone down and looked at House.

"You're gonna need a lawyer," He said.

"Well?" Wilson asked. "What are the allegations?"

Foreman stood up. "They wouldn't exactly say," He said, he leaned on the desk.

"Okay… then who made the allegations?" Wilson asked.

"They wouldn't say that either," Foreman said.

"Then what the hell were you talking about on the phone?" House snapped.

Foreman and Wilson looked at House. He sighed and rubbed his face. "Sorry," He muttered.

Foreman grimaced. "House, they are setting a preliminary hearing in which you will argue your case. You need a lawyer."

"But who?" Wilson asked. "No one is good enough,"

….

Rachel hated her new room. It had bland walls, itchy sheets and a freezing wooden floor with no rug. She sat by herself in the room, with her suitcase beside her feet. Her face was snail-trailed with tears and her eyes were as puffy as hell on a bad day. Her room was cold and she shivered under her thick coat. In her hand, she clutched her mother's letter. There was a knock at the door, she looked up and saw Eileen.

"Hey," She said. "How you doing?"

Rachel didn't reply.

"Listen," Eileen said. "I know that this is tough, but we have your best interests at heart," Rachel said nothing. Eileen sat down beside the thirteen year old. "Honey, we hope that the allegations against your adoptive father are false so that you can return to him soon. But these things take time." She sighed. "It's late dear, why don't you get some sleep?"

Eileen left. Rachel sat shaking and confused. She pulled off her jacket and dug inside her suitcase looking for her bunny and a pair of pyjamas. On top of her clothes and toiletries was an old t-shirt. It wasn't hers. Frowning she pulled it out. She recognised it immediately. It was her dad's favourite rock t-shirt. She smelt it. It reminded her of old cologne and whiskey. Instead of putting on her blue sheep pyjamas, she put on the old t-shirt and continued to look for her bunny.

It wasn't there. She looked again. Nope, she hadn't packed it. Tears trickling down her face she curled up on the bed comforted only by the warmth of the blankets and the Rolling Stones concert tour t-shirt.

**What do you think? I thought it would be interesting to make Foreman dean of medicine as opposed to Cameron. Though she's awesome i have a plan for her and Chase, which will hopefully come up in the next chapter. Don't worry, I'm not forgetting the new team, what happened to them will soon be revealed.  
****I'm not going to tell you who made the allegations against House and why until the very last moment... Its a method of building suspence... Believe me... But I'm pretty certain about who it is.  
****Next chapter might be up sooner than I think, got so many great ideas running through my head at the moment.  
****Anyway, please Read and Review and tell me what you think! Thanks for reading! **


	8. The Law

House was playing with a yo-yo and leaning against the wall. Wilson sat on one of the vinyl chairs, tapping his foot slightly. He did this when he was nervous. House sighed and tucked the yo-yo into his pocket.

"Stop it already," He snapped.

Wilson looked up, a hand jumped to his knee as he tried to keep it steady. He drank his coffee slowly.

"Why are you so nervous anyway?" House asked. "You've got nothing to be worried about."

"Worried? Me? No I'm not worried," He yawned. "Just trying to keep awake, besides you're nervous… You haven't stopped playing with that damn yo-yo since we got here."

House said nothing. He began to pace steadily down the hall. His leg was killing him. He had taken some vicodin, but it hadn't really kicked in. He bit is nails as he paced. He hated lawyer's offices. They always felt like they were about to suck the fun out of him. There was a familiar click of heels. House looked up.

"Shall we step inside?" Stacy asked.

Wilson stood up, and they followed her into the office. She sat down on the huge leather chair that looked ready to engulf her and dropped several files onto her desk. She motioned for House and Wilson to take a seat.

"Do you want something to drink?" She asked. "I wouldn't ask but Lynda makes the worst coffee imaginable." She nodded towards Wilson's coffee cup.

"Well I-"

"Wilson, shut up," House said.

Stacy leaned back and folded her arms. "Still the arrogant pain in the ass I see," She said.

"Still married to the enormous pain in the ass I see," House retorted, nodding towards her wedding ring.

"If I had known you were going to be this cranky, I wouldn't have made you wait," Stacy didn't wait for a witty retort, she opened the file. "So you're a father now?" She asked.

"Technically no," House said.

Wilson frowned. "What do you mean 'technically no'?" He asked.

House rolled his eyes. "She is not my biological daughter," He replied.

"Greg that argument is not going to win her back," Stacy said.

"Are you a part of this conversation?" House asked her.

"Fine," She said, standing up. "Good luck trying to get her back."

"No, Stacy," House sighed. "Please you gotta help me." .

"That's all I wanted," She said, sitting back down. "Right, let me read." She picked up the file and stopped talking. Wilson turned to House with an annoyed expression on his face.

"Are you deliberately trying to sabotage your chances of getting her back?" He asked.

House looked at him. "Are you really going to offer a psyche analysis? I get enough of that when I'm at home."

Stacy looked up. Wilson saw her expression.

"We're not together," He confirmed. "I am married."

Stacy rolled her eyes. House leaned forward.

"He is like so self-loathing," He said.

Stacy cracked a smile. She folded the paper folder over. "I need to make a call." She pulled over her telephone and tapped in a number. "Hello, this is Stacy Warner of Shorthills Law Attorneys, I'm calling on behalf of my client Dr Gregory House…. Thank you, I'll hold." She slapped House's hand away as he tried to grab her letter opener. "Hello, Stacy Warner here, I have in front of me a file listing various charges but it doesn't give me any name behind them…. Anonymous? How can it be anonymous? My client has the right to know who accused him… No I understand the witness protection act… Well it's not like my client can attack anyone! Because he's crippled!" She almost shrieked, House and Wilson jumped a little. She sighed and slammed the phone back into its cradle. "They wouldn't say," She said.

"Well, goodie for you that you managed to handle the disabled thing with care," House said.

Stacy gave him a steely stare. "They won't release any details about the accuser. Legally, though, I can read out the allegations."

House stayed silent, but Wilson urged Stacy on.

She sighed. "You are accused of being a drug addict, an abuser; sexual and mental. You are also charged with being an alcoholic, a drug dealer and an irresponsible doctor." Stacy looked up. "Greg?"

House had his head against his cane handle, his face completely hidden. Wilson was curious; he placed a tentative hand on his friend's shoulder. House looked up, his face hard.

"House?" Wilson asked. "You okay?"

"Did you just hear the list?" House said. "Or did you just have your ears closed?"

Wilson sighed; his friend even though his life was falling apart for what felt like the billionth time, had still not lost his sarcasm. The oncologist had seen him through all the tough times, the worst times. But now… He was losing the only person that really mattered to him. Wilson wasn't sure if he would pull through the other end the same old House.

"Are those all the charges?" House asked.

Stacy nodded. "Alright, Greg, tell us everything that you know."

House sighed. This was not going to be a day that he would enjoy. He tapped his cane and leaned forward.

…

Rachel hated the facility. It was almost like a concentration camp. She frowned. That was cruel. She couldn't exactly compare an American facility to Auschwitz. But she had seen pictures and she felt as if she was in a concentration camp. Bed time and wake up call were set. Meals were set, exercise time was set. Even visiting hours were set. There was even organised "FUN".

Rachel wasn't one for organised "FUN". For a start, she was too old to sit in a playroom with a doll and play with it for an hour. Fun for her was reading, listening to music, cooking or watching her father play and trying to copy him. She obviously couldn't, she didn't have the same talent. Some people just had a natural way of latching on to different talents.

She was not in the mood to talk to anyone. She wouldn't converse with the other children, let alone those who wanted to speak to her.

On Saturday, around eleven, when Rachel was supposed to be learning guitar with her dad, two gentlemen appeared at her room. She stared at them a long time before one of them spoke.

"Ms House," Said the blonder, shorter one. "We wish to speak to you regarding you adoptive father."

Rachel put her book down. "Am I going home?" She asked.

"Ms House, would you please follow us, we wish you to answer some questions, that's all."

"You want to ask me questions, just ask them here," Rachel said. "It shouldn't matter where you ask them as long as the answers are true."

"Will you answer them truthfully?" Asked the blonde one.

"I have no reason to lie," Rachel said. "All I want is to get home."

The darker one left for a long while. When he returned he brought with him a suited woman that Rachel had never met before. She held out her hand.

"I'm Officer Michelle Gray," She said. "Ms House, may I sit down?"

Rachel nodded and cleared her suitcase off her bed. She had not felt the need to unpack. She was going home soon anyway.

**This chapter has no real significant meaning, it is just a bridge into the next one, which will hopefully be really good. I really wanted to see what had happened to every character that House had a long standing relationship with. Stacy was an obvious choice. I will admit that I am not a fan of Stacy, but I hate introducing new characters, because I have to establish all sorts of things. Stacy seemed like the easy choice.  
Anyway, thank you for reading, please as always leave a comment and I will do my best to make it as good as possible.  
Thank you for reading and (hopefully) reviewing!**


	9. Interviewed

"Now, I'm sure you're very confused-" Michelle Gray said soothingly.

"Too right I'm confused," Rachel interrupted.

"It's rude to interrupt, dear," The officer said getting agitated.

"Well I think it's rude to rip a young girl away from her dad, albeit adoptive, without any clear reason and explaining sod all to me," Rachel replied bitterly folding her arms. "Maybe it's not rude, but it certainly is annoying."

The officer sighed. "Did Mr House ever do anything to you that made you feel scared or do anything that would be considered inappropriate?" She failed to complete her sentence.

"Do you mean sexually abuse me?" Rachel asked. "Is that one of the charges?"

The officer nodded. Rachel wore an expression of plain amusement.

"You think that my father abused me?" The question was obviously rhetorical. "What are the other charges?"

Gray didn't bother answering. "What about his drug use?"

Rachel's pretty eyes widened with shock. "His drug use? You think he is some sorta junkie? He lives in constant pain, he has a legit medical reason for using pain prescribed narcotics."

"So he's explained about his drug use?"

"'Course he has," Rachel replied pissed off. "When my motor functions kicked in, he tried desperately to get on without the meds…" She leaned forward on the chair. "He tried several times, but the pain was so unbearable… Wilson thinks it's psychological, well when he's spent an entire day and night by my father's side, mopping up his vomit and watching him scream in unquenchable agony, then I'd like to see him say it's purely psychological."

"Wilson? As in Dr James Wilson of oncology at Princeton Plainsbro Teaching Hospital?"

"Oh you've met him then, unfortunate sap when he lays his eyes on a pretty girl, excessively annoying," Rachel said. "Was it him that put me here?" She stopped and frowned. "No, it can't have been. Uncle Jimmy has no logical let alone legal reasoning for making false allegations. Can't have been him."

Gray watched her with slight interest. "What about trafficking?" She asked. "Has Mr House ever appeared to be selling his narcotics on the street?"

"You think he's a dealer?" Rachel asked incredulously.

"In 2006, Detective Michael Tritter believed that your 'father' was a drug seeking dealer. It never proceeded to full trail-"

"That was because my dad was rude to Mr Tritter, and I use 'Mr' because you won't call my dad by his proper title," Rachel snapped. "Besides my dad is rude to everyone."

"Well, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Gray sighed. "I can understand if you are scared to say that Mr House has done anything that is outside the law. He has raised you for twelve years-"

"I was adopted when I was five months old, making it thirteen years that he raised me," Rachel replied. "Get it right,"

"If he ever made you feel uncomfortable in any way or said something inappropriate?"

"My father has a knack for making people uncomfortable. It's one of his gifts. He is outside society because he is not afraid to say what he thinks. He takes crazy chances and a lot of the time it lands him in trouble. But he knows where he stands on everything from religion to ethics to the latest craze. And that is why I love and respect him." Rachel said.

Gray made a note. "A preliminary hearing has been set in which Mr House will face his accuser and argue his case in front of a Children Protection Board. But these allegations that have been made against Mr House must be taken as seriously as possible." She sighed. "You are scheduled for a full physical at the Mayfield Clinic in two days time and a full work up. Until then, you must seriously consider whether or not you are going to tell the truth about Mr House."

Rachel gritted her teeth. Gray left with the two suits.

"Bitch," She muttered under her breath, lying on her bed. Her fingers touched the edge of her dad's t-shirt which was stashed under her pillow. She pulled it out and hugged it tightly. It still smelled of him; brandy and that bleach-y hospital smell.

She'd be with her daddy soon.

…..

Rachel sat in the canteen waiting sipping a coffee. The dinner ladies strongly disagreed to her drinking the stuff, but they had no legal reason to stop her; she was eating properly and she was doing what she was told, even though she would put up a pretty good argument against some of the essential stuff. She sat on her own at the tiniest table, wearing her father's shirt.

Kids were being visited by relatives. Rachel wasn't sure of their names. She hadn't bothered asking any of them. She found most people intolerable. Sure, if they were interesting, she might be able to sit and have a chat with them, but they weren't, so she didn't.

She was reading the morning edition, particularly the problem pages when a paper bag dropped in front of her. She looked up and saw Wilson standing in front of her.

"Uncle Jimmy," She breathed. She stood up and grabbed him around the neck and hugged him tightly. Confused, Wilson hugged her back.

"It's good to see you," She said, letting him go.

"It's good to see you too," Wilson said. He sat down on one of the chairs. "I got you a gift,"

Rachel pulled forward the paper bag and pulled out a necklace. It was a silver locket which had taken a fair beating in a number of places. She had seen it in a curiosity shop window, a few weeks ago. She had pointed it out to House, but she assumed that he would forget.

"Well, it's not from me exactly," Wilson said.

"Could you…?" She held the necklace out to Wilson, who took it, opened the clasp and tied it around her neck. Rachel looked up. "How is he?" She asked, fingering the locket that now sat just above her breastbone.

Wilson sighed. "He's depressed." He said. "He misses you so much. He's missing work… He's not eating right… He tried detoxing again… But a he couldn't…"

Rachel rubbed her forehead. "It's my fault," She whispered.

"How is it your fault?" Wilson asked.

"I don't know," She replied. "I just feel like it is,"

"I think that's what your dad would call 'faulty logic'," Wilson said. "Don't worry, he has a lawyer, we're going to get this sorted out."

She looked up at him, tears now pouring thick and fast down her cheeks as she realised the reality of the situation.

"What if we don't?" She asked. "What if I never get to see him again?" With those words, she fell into Wilson's arms and began to sob as the world felt as if it was closing in on her.

...

**Okay… this I'll admit, was not as good as I hoped it to be. Do forgive me; I am working on other things at the moment. And I also apologize for the lateness of this chapter, it won't happen again.  
****But as House says "everybody lies"!**

**Please review and as ever, thank you for reading.**


	10. Detox

There was someone at the door. It sounded like they were banging it with a hammer, not a normal bony fist. House sat for a moment; breathing heavily, covered in cold sweats. He screwed up his eyes and grabbed his cane. Shakily, he walked up to the door and peered out the tiny peep hole.

Outside was a worried Cameron.

"House!" Cameron said. "I know you're in there! Open up, we need to talk."

House sighed and leaned further into the door frame.

"I heard about Rachel," Cameron continued. "Stacy came to the Mayo clinic,"

House opened the door, his head banging against the frame.

"Oh god," Cameron said.

House sighed and a huge shudder ripped through his entire body. He tried controlling it, but it was no use. His entire frame shook with pain. She grabbed her former boss's shoulders in order to stop him from passing out. She pushed him gently into his apartment, once he was rested on the sofa making her way to the kitchen. She poured a tall glass of water and grabbed some tissues then she kneeled in front of House and handed him the water. He took it and sipped it gratefully.

House looked up at him. "Wow, you look like crap," He said noticing Cameron's heavy lids and wasted thin frame. She looked like she had been going through some real tough times. He rubbed his leg; holding it tightly as if to course out the pain.

"I heard about Rachel," Cameron said.

"So you told me, it has been almost a week. I thought Wilson would have run to you to spread out the gossip that House was an incompetent father sooner."

"You're not incompetent," Cameron said. She leaned on the edge of the table and pushed up. Once standing she took a more comfortable place on one of House's many chairs. "That's the reason for the rapid detox? You think you can win her back if you can prove yourself a worthy person?"

"Am I that see through?" House asked.

Cameron didn't reply. He looked up at her.

"Why are you here?" He asked. "You left Princeton; you left that old life, hell, you even left Chase! You have no business here."

"I'm worried about you," Cameron replied.

"You still have the hots for me!" House said almost happily. She gave him a dirty look. Another wave of pain shot through his entire body. He gripped her hand tightly as he screwed up his eyes to stop himself from yelling.

"Sh," Cameron said soothingly. "It's okay," House gripped her hand tighter, she barely noticed.

"Help me up," He grumbled. "I'm gonna hurl,"

Cameron grabbed him under his arm and helped him limp to the bathroom, to which he kneeled and threw up very noisily in the toilet. He gagged and rolled to the floor. Cameron sat down beside him, holding his hand again. He pulled away and wiped his mouth. She smiled weakly at him.

"Why are you smiling?" House asked, getting slightly pissed off.

"Because," She said. "When I worked for you, you always told me that people don't change. Now look at you. You're practically twisting yourself into knots to get Rachel back."

"Is there some point to anything you just said?" House asked.

Her smile stretched further. "It proves that you are a human being."

"It proves that I am an idiot,"

"Same thing really," She replied. "But it also proves that you love her, and you can't continue with out her."

"You make it sound as if I want to marry her," House said.

"She's your daughter, House," She smiled. "You love her."

"I also love Harley Motorbikes; do I have the right to call them my child?" He retorted.

Cameron rolled her eyes. "Why do I bother?" She asked.

"Because, like I said earlier, 'you still have the hots for me'," He replied.

"The question was rhetorical," She said.

House nodded. "I know," He replied. "I just wanted to see how you would react when I say 'you still have the hots for me'," He smiled trying to suppress another wave of pain. "The fact you haven't answered tells me a lot more than your actual answer,"

"Even though you are detoxing, going through unbelievable pain and throwing up you still find some way to deflect," Cameron sighed.

"I know," House said. "I'm amazing," He rubbed his leg thoughtfully. He glanced at his former employee. "What relationship are you trying to destruct this time?"

"I'm not in a relationship," She replied.

House nodded. "Sure," He said. "You see, that would have carried a tad more weight if you weren't wearing your wedding ring from when you married Chase around your neck and the big diamond engagement ring around your finger."

Cameron smiled. "Damn," She said. "I really hoped you wouldn't notice."

"Who's the unlucky virgin you're depositing your eggs in this time?" House asked. "You obviously don't think it's going to last because you wouldn't be wearing your old wedding ring. So, you either want him to dump you, or you told him that Chase died in a car crash and you want to keep him in your heart forever. Which would be a heap of crap seeing as I spoke to Chase the other day."

Cameron grinned, a twinkle in her eye. "Who says it's a 'he' I'm marrying?"

House's brilliant blue eyes widened. "You're screwing with me,"

"No, you think I'm screwing with you," Cameron replied. "Her name is Melinda,"

He stared at her. "Please continue," He said.

"You want to know about her?" Cameron asked.

"Well, I want to know what she looks like so I can imagine you naked… In bed together…"

She smiled. "Tall, dark hair, green eyes… Likes to be a bit… Dominating…"

House shook his head. "You're screwing with me," He said.

"Duh," She replied. "No wonder you do it. It's really good fun."

House smiled. Pain shot through him again and he couldn't help but to cry out. Cameron took his hand again as he threw up in the toilet. She pressed her other hand against his forehead, trying to cool him down.

"You're running a slight fever," She said. "Have you been eating properly?"

House looked up at her. "Have you ever seen me eat anything healthy?" He asked.

"Good point," She checked his pulse. "Any other pain except from your leg?" She asked.

"I'm getting a migraine if that helps," House said. "It's probably just the cold that I picked up from some snotty nosed brat in the clinic."

"Your heart's racing," She said. "House are you okay?"

House looked up at her. He squinted as his vision became blurred. "I feel slightly…" He blinked. "Lightheaded,"

"That's never a good sign," Cameron said. "Do you want me to call Wilson?"

House nodded as his world went black.

……

House blinked. Suddenly someone was at his side flashing a light in his eyes. He beadily looked up at the two figures. The one that was shining the light was the first to talk.

"Dammit House," Wilson said. "Couldn't you have done this when I was not in the middle of a meeting?"

"Well, I'm sorry for any inconvenience that I may have caused you," House mumbled sarcastically. He realised that he was lying on his bed, with a new shirt on. "What happened?"

"You blacked out," Cameron said.

"And you didn't bother calling an ambulance?" House asked.

Cameron smiled a little. "I am a doctor not just a stripper. I called Wilson as soon as I could but you were just unconscious."

"We're not sure why you passed out though," Wilson said.

"I know," House replied. "It was Cameron's annoying whiny voice. Made me want to go into a coma," He sat up slowly feeling dizzy.

"Did you pass out because of the pain?" His friend asked.

House looked up at the oncologist. He nodded tiredly. "Yeah, don't worry about it," He sighed. "You saw Rachel… How is she?"

"She…" Wilson sighed. "She misses you more than words can say. She hasn't washed that old rock t-shirt she took with her because she said it smelled like you-"

"Well that's dumb," House said. "After nearly two weeks of me not wearing it and her wearing it… You would think that the t-shirt would smell of her not me."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "And the locket? House, I have never seen such raw human emotion in my entire life."

"That's because there is no such thing as 'raw human emotion'" House retorted. "Get me my pants," He ordered Cameron.

"Wait, wait, wait," Wilson said. "How are you feeling?"

"Apart from the annoying pain that is drilling through me every five minutes as I detox in this slow and painful way?" House pouted. "Pretty good, you?"

"Well," Wilson said. "At least your sarcasm remains intact."

Cameron looked at him. "Is that a good thing?"

"For House, yes,"

"House has no idea what's good and what's bad!" Cameron said raising her voice.

"Yes but House is smarter than the average human being, he'll figure it out!"

"Hello!" House said, raising his hand. "Right here!"

Wilson looked back at his friend. "I think you should stay in bed, until you're done detoxing…"

"Not detoxing any more," House said. "Vicodin, now!"

"Ah." Wilson put his hands on his hips as he stood up. "That might be a problem…"

House blinked up at him. "You got rid of my vicodin?"

Wilson grinned sheepishly. "You said you were doing this for Rachel… I just wanted to help."

House sighed and grabbed his cane. Slowly, he hobbled off of his bed.

"What?" Wilson asked. "No yelling?"

House looked up at him. "Jimmy,"

Wilson reacted to this. House had never called him Jimmy unless he was really needed. In fact only Rachel had ever called Wilson 'Jimmy'.

"You're right," House sighed. "I have to do this… Now go get me a bucket before I hurl again."

**Oh my god, why are you still reading this? I thought this chapter was going to be really good as well. It's awful, I know, urgh!  
****I love writing House/Wilson/Cameron scenes way too much. They never turn out to be any good!  
****Anyway, thank you again for reading this frail attempt to be dramatic and exciting. Please comment and as ever you have my thanks.**


	11. The Reunion

Rachel slumped her head on the window of Officer Gray's car. The drive to the police station was slow and boring and the music that Gray had put on was not the music that Rachel liked. Gray had assumed that because Rachel was a teenager, she was into dance music with no real lyrics or tune. Rachel hated people who made assumptions.

They had been driving since Rachel woke up. She had no idea why she was going, but she knew that today she was meeting her father's accuser and her father's lawyer. She knew that questions were going to be asked and she knew she was going to be rude to the person asking them. Her locket sat nicely in her pocket so she could hold it as comfort when they said uncomfortable things. Experience had told her to always expect the worst and when the worst had already happened, expect more crap to be flung her way. Cynical, yes, but it had stopped her from getting overly hurt. House had always taught her that the world was a tough, gruelling place to live and that being human is practically the worst thing you could be.

They slowly pulled into the drive where Gray parked. She turned off the ignition and turned around to face Rachel.

"I know this is scary," Gray said. "And I know that you feel wronged, but we need to straighten things out. Once this is finished we can get you back to your father."

Rachel didn't answer; she gave the officer a dirty look before getting out. The two suits, who had not spoken since they left the children's home, stood beside Rachel as she waited for Officer Gray. She took a tight hold of Rachel's shoulders and guided her into the station.

Rachel had never been inside a police station before. It was not like how it had been depicted in her father's soaps. Desks were covered in papers and dust. The coppers were all bent over the computers doing paperwork and not really concentrating on finding murderers. Most of them were over thirty with large pot bellies and there was a faint scent of cigarette smoke emitting from each officer almost like individual flavours. Rachel wrinkled her nose.

Gray stopped by her desk and grabbed a few files before leading Rachel to an isolated tiny cold room at the end of the corridor. Inside this room was a tall, dark haired woman with sharp features and a vacant expression. She looked around at Rachel and she smiled warmly.

"Rachel House?" She asked, outstretching her hand.

Rachel shook her hand. "Do I know you?"

The woman smiled. "Sit down dear,"

Rachel pulled out a chair and sat down. The woman watched Officer Gray lean against the wall with her arms folded.

"I'm sure that you're very-"

"Don't try and pretend that you know what I'm feeling," Rachel snapped. "I'm cranky, I'm tired, my room stinks, I haven't seen my dad in nearly a month so get straight to the point,"

The woman folded her arms. "Well, clearly you're Greg's daughter," She smirked. "alright Rachel what do you want to know?"

"Your name might be nice," Rachel said.

The woman smiled gently. "Stacy," She said.

Rachel sat up straighter, suddenly curious. "You were the one that used to live with my dad," She said.

Stacy smiled. "Ah, honey that's my Native American name, on my insurance is just Stacy Warner," She said. "Now, your father asked me to represent him in the preliminary hearing and if it progresses to court,"

"So?"

Stacy sighed. "I have ask you… Questions that you might find uncomfortable… Then you have to meet your father's accuser,"

Rachel gave her a look that suggested she was not in the mood to play twenty questions. Stacy didn't notice though and pulled out her notebook and a parker pen. Rachel sighed as Officer Gray sat down beside Stacy.

"Now," Stacy smiled. "I know Greg, he is an arrogant, disrespectful pain in the ass. But he wouldn't have come to me if he knew that things were bad and didn't care." She pulled out a sheet of paper looked at it briefly for a moment. "Greg House is accused of the following; Sexual abuse, pawning off fake prescriptions, trafficking, being in possession of narcotics, being mentally unstable to take care of his daughter albeit adoptive, he is also accused of being verbally abusive to members of the public, taking in no account for the law and ethics code…" Her voice trailed off. She sighed and leaned forward. "Rachel, what we're most concerned about is the allegations of sexual abuse. Remember, I have known Greg for nearly 15 years. I know what he is capable of and that scares me."

"So," Rachel said. "You believe that hurt me?"

Stacy bit her lip. "I don't know what to believe," She said. "I mean some of these things are true, but there are legit reasons for each of them. The other things… I can't see Greg doing that sort of stuff. I'm just here to get your story so I can hopefully defend my client and get you home to him safe and sound."

Rachel looked at the lawyer with respect. "Dad never hurt me, and you might think I'm covering up because I'm scared… But if I was being abused, don't you think that I would be begging you not to make me go back to him? Don't you think that I would take every skill in my arsenal so that you would never send me back to him? Dad raised me to speak what I think and never be afraid… That is my way of life…"

Stacy smiled. She turned to Officer Gray. "I don't think there's a need to question her. She obviously knows her own mind."

Rachel looked over at Officer Gray. She frowned. "You don't believe that my dad did any of this either?" She said. It was more of a statement than a question.

The cop smiled at her. "No, I don't think your dad has done any of this, the claims are barely believable."

Rachel relaxed. If the cops couldn't believe it then there was a nice chance that she would be back with dad soon. Stacy sighed and closed her notebook.

"Michelle, would you please bring in the prosecutor?" She asked.

Gray nodded and left.

"You know who the ass is?" Rachel asked.

Stacy nodded sadly. "Found out earlier today, Greg doesn't know of course,"

"Will you be telling him?"

"He has asked that Greg is not to be told who it is…" Stacy said. "He wants to remain anonymous to the accused."

"So I'm allowed to know?" Rachel asked.

Stacy nodded. "He wants to meet you,"

"I don't want to meet him." Rachel retorted. "You're going to tell dad anyway?"

Stacy nodded. "You can't exactly keep secrets from Greg."

"Can I ask you something?" The young girl asked suddenly.

Stacy smiled. "Of course,"

"What was dad like before his leg?"

Stacy sighed. "Is he an arrogant pain in the ass with no respect for others and cares only for himself?" She asked.

Rachel nodded.

"Then he's pretty much remained the same."

The door clicked open and a man stepped in. He looked as if he was in his mid to late twenties, perhaps 29 or so. There was a gold band around his finger, indicating that he was married. Dark shadows under his eyes told Rachel that he was suffering from a lot of sleepless nights… A baby perhaps? He looked smart though, he had dressed in a very sharp suit that had been specifically tailored to his shape. This meant that he earned a good deal of money and he did not look uncomfortable in the suit so he must wear it on a day-to-day basis. His leather suitcase had been monogrammed and there was a silver bracelet around his left wrist telling her that he was allergic to some sort of medication. Rachel deduced that the man was a graduated student of the law, working in close proximity to the police, married with at least one child with an allergy to penicillin.

Stacy sighed and got up. She shook his hand. "Rachel House meet your biological father Simon Wells."

Rachel stared blatantly at the man, her green eyes wide in shock.

…..

House rolled over and looked at the time. It was nearly half-four in the morning and he had not had a wink of sleep. Sighing, he lifted his leg out of the bed and grabbed his cane. Slowly, with great care he limped through to the front room.

Wilson was sleeping on his lumpy couch. Cameron was not to be seen. Perhaps she went home. House poked Wilson awake with his cane. Wilson blinked stupidly and looked up.

"Is it time to go to school already?" The oncologist asked. "I don't want to go! All the girls make fun of me!"

However much House enjoyed Wilson's incoherent ramblings when he was asleep, he was not in the mood for laughing. He limped to the back of the settee and rolled Wilson off of it. He landed with a nasty thump on the floor.

"House!" He groaned.

"Jimmy!" House replied in the same annoying voice. "Get out, your wife will be wondering where you are."

Wilson checked his watch. "Screw it," He muttered, climbing back onto the sofa. "She knows I'm at yours."

House puffed out his cheeks and exhaled loudly. He tapped his cane on the wooden floor. He sat on the sofa's arm rest.

"What?" Wilson asked. "You gonna open up to me?"

House shook his head. "Nah, I'd hate to bore you,"

Wilson folded his arms and yawned. "Well what do you want House?"

He sighed. "What do you think happened to Taub and Thirteen?" He asked.

Wilson looked up at his friend. "You're interested?"

House nodded. "I know you keep tabs on them and remain close friends… Anything to take my mind off the… y'know…"

Wilson sighed and sat up. "Well… Taub is still married but they now live in this English village or something… " He bit his lip. "And Thirteen… Well…" He looked up at House. "She's dying of Huntington's,"

House rubbed his forehead. "How bad as she?"

"She's lost pretty much every thing that made her, her… It's saddening…" Wilson looked over at House. "You okay?"

House nodded. "I'm not the one dying,"

"Yes I know that, but the way you're acting… You might as well be dead."

"The young shouldn't suffer as the old go through life blissfully," House said. "Go home to your wife and kids,"

With that he limped back through to his bedroom, Wilson watched him intently.

**well, it went better than i expected to be perfectly honest. Mind you, us britons have a certain brand of pessimism, so I'm still going to criticise my work till the end of days... I hope you like the idea that it is Rachel's Biolgical father who is responsible. I thought that it would be interesting... However, its not just him who's behind this whole thing, so stay tuned to find out what happens!  
As always I want to thank you for reading my frankly embarrassing attempts to write and as always I ask you to leave a review/comment and tell me what you think and any ideas you may have for future chapters. If you have any questions regarding what i have written, please don't hesitate and ask me on the website on my profile. Thank you again! ~megan**


	12. HomeSick

House watched the cancer patient watching the football on the screen. Mr Green was over sixty years old and had very few friends or relatives. He somewhat enjoyed House's company, which most doctors in the hospital found annoying, Wilson was at the top of the list to be annoyed.

House put a soda down on the patients beside table. Mr Green looked over at House.

"Is there any specific purpose to you being here?" He wheezed.

House shrugged. "I'm a doctor, you're a patient. You haven't complained in the last few weeks that I've sat here."

Green rolled his eyes. "No, I mean, don't you have… Doctor thing's to do?"

House looked over at him. He shook his head. "My licence to practice medicine has been revoked for the time being."

Green frowned, suddenly worried. "D-did you… W-what… Revoked?"

House sighed. "Long story,"

"I got time,"

House grinned. "The beauty of it is, you really don't. I've seen your chart."

Green looked slightly pissed off. "Dr House, I will call Wilson,"

House puffed out his cheeks and sighed. "Fine, I was cruel to my boss, she got tetchy and decided that the sex wasn't just that good to keep me so…" He shrugged. "Whatcha gonna do?"

Green's frown deepened. "You're boss is a male. Isn't he? Eric Foreman?"

House slurped at his soda, knowing that he had been thinking of… Her… He nodded.

"Yeah, it's a bloke, but he's gay so," He shrugged again.

"Sex gender confusion joke?" Green asked.

House nodded thanking his clever self for covering up his blunder.

"Okay," Green said. "You've had your little joke, tell me the real reason."

"You don't want to know,"

"I really do,"

"You really don't,"

"I could repeat myself, but then I'd just get bored, tell me."

"No,"

"Yes,"

"You're such a child,"

"Says the one hiding the truth from me like a stubborn six year old,"

House frowned. "Do you really wanna know?" He asked.

Green nodded. "Yes, I do, now spill."

House leaned forward. "I would, but… I left my psychiatrist several years ago. I'm not in the mood for revisiting bad memories."

Green gave him a dirty look. "Dr House, if you aren't going to tell me why you're license has been revoked and if you have nothing else to do then why stay in my room? Why not annoy your friend Wilson?"

"Because Wilson is an overprotective sap," House said. "And he knows what's happening in my life. If I go to him it'll be like going back to therapy and I'm not in the mood for his preppy pain in the ass voice." He pulled out a vicodin bottle and tipped a tiny pill into his palm.

"I thought you quit cold turkey," Green said. "Or at least Wilson said you did,"

"Smaller doses," House said. "Means less pain to me, and a lesser of a pain in the ass to everyone else, what else did Wilson say?"

Green took a breath from his oxygen mask. "Not much after that. He wouldn't tell me why for this rapid detox."

"Well goodie for him," House swallowed the pill and took another swig of his soda. "And even better for me,"

"Do you have kids?" Green asked.

"Do you?" House asked.

"Three sons, one daughter," The cancer patient replied. "But they hated me, left with their mom after we divorced. Jess the youngest of the boys is a right poof; he lives in old Paris with his partner Dennis. The rest of them are married and have kids, not sure what their names are… They never really talk to me anymore."

House blinked as if waking up from a deep and refreshing sleep. "You done with your life story?" He asked.

Green looked him up and down. "You're not married, so I guess no kids?" He asked.

House sighed and leaned back on his chair. "No, I had a kid,"

"Had?"

"Like I said, long story," He replied.

"What was his name?"

"Her," House corrected. "Her name is Rachel, she's thirteen and…"

"Mom took her away from you?"

"Would you stop guessing?" House asked. "Her mom is dead,"

"Oh,"

"Actually, both her mothers are dead."

"You're not making sense,"

"I never make any sense," House replied. "Rachel was adopted by my old boss. Old boss died, left her with me,"

Green nodded. "So where is she now?"

"Just away," House said.

"No more than that?"

"Nope,"

Green sighed and coughed a little. House stood up looking at him intently. "You okay,"

"Fine, fine," Green choked. "A little sore,"

House grabbed his cane and limped over to the phone. He tapped in a number. "Can I get a page on Dr Wilson? Okay, thank you," He pushed the phone back into its cradle. He looked at the patient with his bright blue eyes. "Wilson will be here soon to give you a morphine drip," He said, limping back to his seat.

"Thank you," Green wheezed. "But why the sudden kindness?"

House shrugged. "I'm a people person."

"Now that's a lie if I ever did see one,"

"Yeah well deal with it," House said.

"Had a tough life son?" Green asked.

"Not as bad as yours I imagine,"

"Cancer is boring if you ask me. Besides, there was always the likelihood of me having it. Never really interested me," Green looked at the cane with some deep curiosity. "How did you become a cripple?"

"C'mon," House said. "I don't want to drag out that tiresome story again,"

"So you've had to tell it before? That means, you're not open about meaning… You don't want to accept it. That's curious. You've dealt with the drug issues and the problems it presents. Yet you refuse to deal with the fact that you're a cripple,"

"I dealt with it," House snapped as the older man got into a touchy subject. "I filled in the paperwork, I went to therapy,"

"But you didn't deal with it on an emotional level. Is that just Dr House? Never dealing with anything that anyone else would find upsetting, confusing or even life-changing. Moving on, never stopping…"

Wilson slid open the door. "Did you page me?" He asked.

"Yes," House said. "This patient needs his morphine increased." He motioned towards green.

"Don't you have clinic duty?" Wilson asked as he unlocked the morphine drip and dialled it up.

House shook his head. "Nope. Don't you remember I have no license to practice with?"

"Get Foreman to write the prescriptions." Wilson suggested. "It would be better than sitting around listening to some patient's semantics."

House looked up at Wilson. He shook his head again. "What I meant by saying I can't, I mean I don't want to. " He said.

"It'll take your mind off Rachel," Wilson said.

"Is that why you have been so distracted?" Green asked.

"You've been discussing your family life with a patient?" Wilson asked incredulously.

"No, I-" House rubbed his forehead and got up. "I don't need an intervention from either of you. None of you know what I'm going through and… none of you should try and pretend you care."

With that House limped off in a blind fit of rage.

…

She was sitting in the home twitching. Her slender arms tossed around her as she tried to concentrate on the TV in front of her. She sat on her own with no friends or nurses by her side. House stood away, watching her, as her limbs flailed around her helplessly.

"You won't get any sense out of her," one of the nurses said. "She has Huntington's Career. Her mind is basically shrinking."

"I know what she has," House snapped. "She used to work for me,"

"She probably won't remember you," The nurse said.

House looked at her. "No one deserves to be alone," He said silently. Slowly he limped over to her and sat by her side.

She looked at him with her pretty big brown eyes.

"Hi Remy," House said.

She said nothing. Her head twitched violently to the left. "Thirteen," She said.

"What?" House asked.

"You… You used to call me Thirteen," She said. "I-I-I don't want to change that just because I…" Her arms continued to flail about with no control. She tried stopping them but it didn't work. House took a gentle hold of her hands. On her left hand was a silver wedding ring. He looked up at her.

"Oh Remy," He said. "Who's the lucky man?"

She laughed, her entire left arm twitching. "Unlucky I should think," She said. She looked at House. Her eyes met his. "I don't remember your name," She murmured.

House moved some hair away from her eyes. "Names don't matter," He replied.

Remy's head jerked to the right. "Cold," She whispered.

House sighed softly and reached for Remy's jumper that sat around her waist. He pulled it gently over her head and onto each arm. She tried smiling at him, but she couldn't.

"Greg," She whispered.

"Yes?" He asked.

She looked up at him, her entire body swaying uncontrollably. "I'm scared," She said. "I'm so scared…"

And for once House couldn't respond, because he finally knew what fear felt like.

…

Simon sat down beside Stacy, who sighed and folded her arms.

"Hello," He said. "I'm Simon, but I'm okay with you calling me dad,"

Rachel folded her arms. "I'm not calling you dad," She said.

"Your 'father' is a narcissistic drug addict," Simon said. "I'm saving you from him,"

Rachel leaned forward. "You're a liar. A heartless liar with no proof of anything,"

"I have plenty of proof," Simon retorted. "It's just a matter of collecting it."

"My father never did anything to me." Rachel said. "I don't care if you want me back in your life. If you wanted me when I was born, then you had plenty of time. Why now?"

Simon slammed his fist onto the metal table with a nasty noise. "I am you're father Rachel Wells, not Greg House!"

"No!" Rachel shouted, standing on her feet. "Greg House is my father, you're just some evil good-for-nothing bastard only out for yourself!"

"You are an idiot!" Simon said. "You have been blinded by his antics for too long!"

Rachel glared at Stacy.

"Alright," the lawyer said. "I think we've exhausted our vocal chords by shouting, Mr Wells, please leave."

Simon got to his feet, picking up his suitcase. "I'm your father Rachel," He said. "Mr House is not," He left with Officer Gray. Stacy looked over at Rachel.

"You didn't need to shout," She said. "Who knows what he's gonna do next,"

Rachel sat back down. "I hate him," She said, folding her arms. "I just wanna go home."

Stacy's face softened. She got up and kneeled in front of the young girl. "Rachel, sweetie, I want you to get home as soon as possible, but these things takes time and with allegations this serious, it could take a while."

Rachel wiped a tear away. "I just want to go home," She said.

**I hope you like this. I loved writing the tender moment between Thirteen and House, I liked that a lot. I'm not sure about the rest of it though. If you have any questions check me out on formspring, the website link is on my profile.  
****As ever thank you for reading and please tell me your thoughts as you review.**


	13. kids

House threw up noisily into the toilet. His hand shook madly as he reached up for the handle as he flushed the contents away. Cameron rubbed his back in slow circular motions as he panted uncontrollably. He wiped his grizzled face with the back of his hand and looked up at her.

"Water," He croaked.

Cameron nodded and got up, without saying a word she quickly left for the kitchen.

Wilson looked at his friend. "I thought you detoxed already," He said.

"Well obviously god thought I didn't suffer enough," House muttered. He coughed a little his face covered in beads of sweat. "Nausea from the pain that's all,"

Wilson rolled his eyes. "You were back on the meds," He said. House frowned looking up at him. "Green told me,"

House sighed. "Figures,"

"What were you thinking? That you could cheat your way back onto the vicodin, without anyone noticing?"

"Yeah, shame it didn't work," House replied, he leaned against the wall breathing deeply. "If it wasn't for the pain I would be just considered an addict."

Cameron returned with a tall glass filled with liquid. She handed it to House who looked at it puzzled.

"This isn't water," He stated.

"It's ginger ale," She replied. "It'll help with the nausea,"

House took a sip. "Honey?" He asked.

"I made sure there was an adequate amount," She replied, sitting back down. Her fingers played thoughtfully with the ring around her neck. House stared at it curious.

"You never actually explained," He said, taking a large gulp of ginger. "Why you are wearing, future Mr Cameron's ring and past Mr Cameron's ring,"

"You think it'll make a difference if I did tell you?" She asked.

"It might take my mind off things," House shrugged.

"Tell him," Wilson said.

House looked up. "You know?"

"Of course I know," Wilson replied.

Cameron thumped him hard on the shin with her fist. Wilson pretended he didn't feel it. House stared at her quizzical. She sighed.

"I'm marrying a guy called Stephen Edwards," Cameron replied. "But I'm starting to regret leaving Robert-"

House raised an eyebrow.

"Chase," She corrected, rolling her eyes. "I'm wondering if I could have done more to save our marriage… Anyway… Stephen doesn't know that I was married before I met him. He doesn't even know that I married a dying man. He doesn't know that I used to have feelings for you,"

House grinned sheepishly. "She still has the hots for me,"

"Hardly," Cameron replied, House's grin drooped. "He's tried getting to know my past, but I feel that if I open up to him he'll leave me."

"How is he damaged?" House asked.

"You think I can only love damaged people?"

"I don't think, I know." House placed a hand under his leg lifting it from the cold bathroom floor. "That's why you married a dying man, why you have the hots for me, and why you are here right now,"

"It can't be just because I'm a doctor and I care?"

"No," House and Wilson said in unison.

Cameron sighed.

"You best tell him." Wilson said. "You know I'll tell Sherlock over there, i think it best he heard from you."

House raised his glass. "Cheers Watson!" He said putting on his best British accent.

"He's not damaged," Cameron said.

"Sure he is," House replied. "That's why you ditched Chase, he wasn't as nearly as damaged as he could have been."

"Stephen is not damaged,"

"I will find out," House said. "Right, it's not terminal… because why else would you by trying to sabotage it? It has a chance… It can't be a cripple because you hate repeating yourself… I'm thinking mental illness or at least suffered from mental illness and he's almost over it."

"I hate repeating myself remember? Why would I go for anyone with a mental illness when I know someone who has one?" Cameron asked.

"I'm not mentally ill, just a pain in the ass," House replied.

"He has schizophrenia," Cameron replied, looking at her feet.

House stared at her for a long moment.

"I know I shouldn't love him, but he makes me laugh, he needs me as much as I need him. I know it doesn't make sense but…" Cameron sighed. "I've been alone for nine years. When I met him four years ago he made me happy, I made him happy."

House didn't reply. He knew what it was like to be lonely and then find one constant companion. "You should marry him," He said. "If he is what you are looking for, then marry him, and be happy. I would do it soon though," He said.

Cameron frowned. "Why?"

He smiled softly before another wave of nausea hit him hard. He shuddered for a moment then looked back at her. "Your breasts look firmer and your appetite this morning shows that you are eating for two."

Cameron stared at him. "I could be just ovulating," She asked.

"Are you?" House said.

Cameron didn't answer. Her eyes widened and she stood up quickly grabbed her jacket. She pulled on her shoes. "I have to go." She said. She then left, slamming the door behind her.

House finished his drink and sighed. Wilson stared at him.

"You think she's pregnant?" He asked.

House looked up at him. "I have no idea," He shrugged.

…..

Rachel was in her room. Well technically speaking it was the government's room. Still, she had tried her best to make it feel like her old bedroom. But it wasn't the same. She didn't have her old rabbit nor any of her favourite books. She had none of her favourite CD's, movies, TV box-sets. Her photo albums were at home along with her home-made movies and slide shows. House had praised her on them, realizing that it was real talent. House never praised anyone unless they were exceptionally brilliant, so to hear her father compliment her on something so meaningless was a huge thing for her. It was really the tiny things that Rachel missed. Like being able to ride along with her dad on his motorbike to the movies on Saturday nights or going with him to the local curiosity shop so he could look for old medical journals and she could expand her knowledge of history. She even missed her stupid alarm clock that would wake her up every morning whether she wanted to get up or not.

And most importantly her dad wasn't with her.

She angrily kicked over a chair that clattered to the wooden floor. Simon Wells was not her father. Maybe they had some biological link, but he had never cleaned her nappies. He wasn't there during her first steps. He had never bought her an item of clothing. He had never held when she cried. He had no emotional connection to her.

She sat down on her lumpy mattress and touched the bent surface of her locket. With gentle tentative fingers she prised it open. She drew back. Inside was a tiny photo of Greg and Lisa, smiling together. Both were wearing large jumpers that looked handmade and a party hat. Lisa was holding a tall champagne glass and was looking at Greg with intense eyes. On the back of the photo was House's handwriting.

_Christmas 1993._

So it was before House's infarction. Before he had even met Stacy. House had never touched on this aspect of his life. He had never said that he and Lisa knew each other before Stacy. Rachel stared at her parents cherishing the little bit of history resting in her palm.

…..

Cameron held the pregnancy test in her hands, terrified and excited. It would take a few minutes before the results came back. She didn't know if she wanted kids. She knew she wanted to get married but because of her age, she never really had thought about children.

She closed her pretty blue eyes, thinking about Chase. She remembered how she felt about him and how she felt about Stephen now. She blinked and looked up at the medicine cabinet. It was crammed full of anti-psyche meds that would make House look like a Christian mercenary. She stood up and paced around Stephen's bathroom. She didn't know how to react. Did she want a child that could have a 50% chance of developing her father's condition? She couldn't put an innocent child through that…

Her timer beeped. Breathing deeply, trying to regulate her breathing. She turned the test over and stared at the clear blue line.

She stood there, speechless.

**This chapter is crap, I know. Haven't had much time to write it, been busy with… Other things… Next chapter should be better… Hopefully…  
****Thank you from the sincerest heart of my bottom (or is it the other way around) for reading and as ever, please review!**


	14. Tests

Rachel screwed up her eyes as the doctor gently parted her legs.

"It's ok," She said. "I am just checking-"

"I know what you're checking for," Rachel snapped, getting uncomfortable. "Would it help if I said that my dad never touched me?"

"I can't exactly take your word for it," The doctor said. "Everybody lies,"

"That's what my dad would say," Rachel replied, she leaned back on the examining table.

"Your dad is a smart man," The doctor looked up.

"Did you know him?"

"Not personally, but he was a legend at my old school,"

"What kinda legend?" Rachel asked.

"He was already trying to make his name known when he was sitting his mid-terms." The doctor replied, returning to her work. "He carved his name in almost every desk in the school, I remember most of the girls had a thing for him," She straightened up. "Alright, we are done." She peeled off the latex gloves.

"Thank god," Rachel muttered unclenching her locket that she had in her palm. She had been holding it so tightly that the edges had almost cut into her skin. The doctor smiled nicely then helped her up.

"I'll let you change then you can go back to the home," She said.

Rachel nodded.

The doctor slid open the door and was bombarded by people.

"Well?" Asked Foreman.

"No signs of rape, forced entry, or anything else that might suggest she was even close to being sexually assaulted." The doctor replied.

Foreman sighed in welcome relief. He could not afford to loose his world famous employee.

"Thank you Alex," He said. He then looked over at the blond male and the older female. He went over to them. "He's clear from the sexual abuse,"

Chase exhaled and looked up at the ceiling. He may have just heard this the other day, but he was glad. He still quite liked House and the change that Rachel had had on him was truly amazing, Chase wasn't afraid to ask House out for a beer anymore. Not that he ever did, because he never rarely had the time. Stacy sighed too, happy to eliminate the most severe and damaging charge.

"Guys," She said. "We still have a butt-load of charges to clear,"

Chase kicked the nurse's desk pissed off. "What do you think will clear is name?" He asked.

Stacy pulled out her notebook. "I'm scheduled for several interviews; I have to interview House's closest and then those that he has not got on with in the past." She looked up at the two male doctors. "Do you guys think you can give statements?"

…

House switched the channel. He looked over at her twitching nervously on his seat. He sighed and edged towards her.

"Remy?" He asked."Do you wanna choose the channel?"

Remy shook her head. "Just put on something good," She said.

House nodded. He looked through the scrolls of shows now airing and came to one that he thought she might like. He looked over at her.

"This one is Grey's Anatomy," He said. "It's a repeat but still…" He looked back over at her. "Do you remember that? Do you remember practising medicine?"

Remy's entire head jerked violently to the left. "I don't like her," She said indicating to the woman on the screen. "She's too skinny!"

House nodded. "Yeah, why are all the pretty ones the ones with no boobs?" He changed the channel again, settling on an English sitcom that was piloting in the states. He looked over at Wilson who was snuggled up on House's chair. He wasn't going to wake his friend up. He had asked too much of him today. He couldn't ask for more. He rubbed his face and yawned. His leg was killing him. He felt like crap and he hated it.

"Greg," She murmured. House looked up as she said his name.

"Yes Remy?" He asked.

She looked over at him as if she wanted to say something. She blinked her pretty brown eyes and shivered.

"Are you cold?" House asked. The heating was already up as far as it would go before House snapped like a twig.

Remy shook her head. She lurched forward hitting a couple of keys on House's piano. She was trying to get to the water in front of her. House stood up limping towards her. He picked up the glass and held the straw to her lips. Some of the water escaped from her lips and made its way down her chin. She tried to wipe it away with the back of her hand, but she missed, almost hitting House in the chest. House gently wiped away the water with his thumb. Remy's head twitched again.

Her hand reached out and grabbed House's. "Pretty hands," She murmured. "Nice hands. Talented hands." She glanced at the piano. "Play us a song,"

"I can't, Rem," He replied. "Wilson is asleep, we don't want to wake him,"

"We don't need to," She replied. "Play it quietly,"

House screwed up his eyes. "It's kinda at default volume that it's set at," He said.

"Please play," She said.

House glanced at his watch. He sighed. "Wait until I wake Wilson up," He said.

"No!" Remy shouted. "Play now!"

House looked at her for a long moment, knowing that she didn't mean to shout. He nodded. He picked up his cane and poked Wilson on the chest. Wilson looked up beardy,

"Piano concert," House said. "Figured you wouldn't want to be woken up with a start,"

Wilson rubbed his eyes and checked his wristwatch. "Well, the whole cane thing was a bit cruel, couldn't you have just rolled me onto the floor?"

House shook his head as he limped around the piano. He sat on the bench and tapped a couple of keys, not knowing what to play. He carried the tune off into a bouncy almost lively piece of music.

"Not that one!" Remy shouted, her entire body shuddering as she watched her former boss play. House sighed and tapped a few more keys; it developed into a melancholy theme. He listened to it as it slowly transformed into Rachel's favourite song. His hands moved swiftly across the keys hitting all the right notes at all the right times. Wilson watched fascinated. House screwed up his eyes. Wilson noticed that he had missed a few notes. He was now slightly out of sync with his own music. House's fist slammed down hard on the ivories and he wailed in exasperation.

Wilson was at his side in a minute. Tears ran down House's tired worn face. "I can't do this anymore," He whispered. "I want Rachel back."

…..

Wilson opened the door. Stacy smiled up at him.

"Yes!" Wilson yelled happily. He picked Stacy up and spun her around happily. Stacy laughed happily. He put her down and grinned happily.

"It's not over quite yet," The lawyer said, her grin fading slightly.

"But if the sexual abuse is bogus, then there is a nice likelihood that the other charges are shit."

"True, but you're forgetting that Greg already has charges dating back as far as 2004, then there are the case notes from Tritter and so on…" Stacy sighed. "We still have a while until this is completely cleared." She looked around his shoulder. "How is he?"

Wilson placed his hands on his hips. "He's sleeping; he kinda had a nervous breakdown whilst playing the piano for Remy."

"House doesn't do nervous breakdowns," Stacy said.

"You haven't been around for nearly 16 years," Wilson replied.

"True, but the House I know-"

"Has changed," Wilson said.

Stacy sighed. "Gonna let me in?" She asked.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," He stood aside and let Stacy inside the apartment and closed the door behind her.

Stacy wandered over to the sofa and pulled out her files. "While we're here," She said. "I want to get a character reference from you,"

Wilson sat opposite her, frowning slightly. "You already know all about House," He said.

"Unfortunately, like you have mentioned I haven't been close to Greg for almost 16 years," Stacy said. "And like you said, he has changed,"

"What do you want me to say?" Wilson asked.

"Anything about how Greg is a great guy and whatever, just tell me what you think of him," Stacy looked for her tape-recorder and hit record.

Wilson scratched his head and sighed. "Well, House is House. Nothing more. He is a malevolent pain in the ass but he's honest and it's gotten him into trouble before..."

…

Rachel twisted in her seat as Foreman checked the blood tests. He smiled at her reassuringly.

"You're completely clear of any sort of abuse," He said. "In fact, you are one of the healthiest patients I have ever seen pass through this hospital. Dr Stone said you are psychologically fine. In fact she was impressed by your scores. Mind you living with House it is kinda inevitable that you would be a non-conformist… But I am happy enough to clear you medically."

Rachel smirked. "Told you," She said.

Foreman smiled. "Yes you did. I apologise."

Rachel clenched the locket that was concealed in her pocket. She sighed. "Have you seen dad?"

Foreman shook his head. "He's been spending a lot of time with Thirteen, so I've heard."

"From who?"

"Wilson and Stacy," He replied. "I'm scheduled for an interview with Stacy later today,"

She looked up at him.

"Don't worry," He smiled. "I want to protect this hospital's biggest asset. Beside's I'm sure he's innocent of most of the charges,"

"Most?"

"He usually is in possession of narcotics." He smiled. "I can't exactly lie about that,"

Rachel smiled. "So I'll be home soon?" She asked.

"I thought House always taught you never to have false hope," Foreman frowned.

"It's false hope that's really keeping me going," Rachel said.

…..

**I really do love writing House/Thirteen scenes don't I? I don't think it should be a pairing per se, but I guess it's really because I know what Huntington's Career does to a person. You see, my auntie Olive was diagnosed with it little over two years ago… She is now the Remy I see in my head.  
Anyway, we get to the really good chapters soon. I cannot wait to write them! As ever thank you for reading and hopefully reviewing, you know I love reading your opinions.  
Oh, just a small reminder, I am on Formspring now. So you can ask me any question about my fanfics. Just follow the link on my profile! **


	15. Wilson

**The following is an interview carried out by Dr House's lawyer with his close friends and employers/employees. **

"_So, how long have you known Greg House?"_

"_Nearly thirty years,"_

"_How did you meet?"_

"_He bailed me outta jail,"_

"_As his legal representative, I advice you not to mention jail. Now let's start again. How did you meet?"_

"_Are you gonna be editing this?"_

"_Only the parts that make you seem like you're covering something. How did you meet?"_

"_He got me outta some trouble."_

"_Okay, now Dr House has a medical qualification for the substance….__hydrocodone?" _

"_Yes,"_

"_Dr Wilson, I advise you to give the medical reason,"_

"… _He had an infarction, you know this,"_

"_But they won't take my word for it,"_

"_Okay… He basically had a blood clot that went undiagnosed for four days. Once diagnosed he tried everything to save his leg. He went through operations to remove the blood clot, but his potassium rose and he suffered through immense pain. Once put in a medical coma, his medical proxy decided to go to a middle ground; basically removing the dead muscle."_

"_And that left him crippled?"_

"_Stacy, you know the story, you were there,"_

"_So after I left…"_

"_You forget how much you meant to him. But he was on the vicodin to manage the pain before you left. No one can measure pain and the way pain should be managed. Guidelines are only there to stop people overdosing. It's no secret that pain gets worse the longer you have it."_

"_Very well. Now, Lisa Cuddy,"_

"_Was diagnosed in 2010 with a stage four small cell lung cancer. I did the testing, the diagnoses etc. That is why she had so much trouble conceiving a child on her own. House, though he wouldn't admit it to me, was in love with her. I think he was always in love with her. Lisa had adopted a baby from a former patient of House's. When diagnosed, she knew that she would never win her battle. The cancer was too far gone to remove it and she didn't want to spend her last few months in pain from the radiation treatments. I wanted her to take them in case there was a small percentage of her living for even a few more months, but House. I guess he knew what pain was like and he didn't want her to go through it."_

"_And Dr Lisa Cuddy left the child Rachel in Dr House's care."_

"_Even House was surprised. He thought that she would leave Rachel with me."_

"_So he legally adopted her?"_

"_Filled out every single piece of paperwork he needed to, got a new apartment, everything. He even tried to get along without the meds. But that was impossible. He was at the hospital when she died."_

"_Was House open to Rachel about her adoption?"_

"_No,"_

"_Really?"_

"_Really, I told him he was being hypocritical by not telling her. He succumbed obviously, which wouldn't have been so bad if she wasn't taken away by social services a few days after."_

"_True, do you know what could have set it off?"_

"_No, House is pretty silent about that sorta stuff."_

"_Has House ever expressed thoughts to harm or abuse his adoptive daughter?"_

"_Are you kidding? House would move heaven and earth to make sure that she was safe. He has devoted himself to making her happy. He loves her so much. I think it's because she was apart of Lisa's life for so long. I don't know why a logical man would be so connected to someone that had no biological link to him or the woman he loved."_

"_Has he ever expressed wishes to traffic drugs?"_

"_He's screwed up, I agree. But he doesn't stand out on a street and give drugs to teenagers. He couldn't do that to Rachel."_

"_Okay what about being in possession of narcotics?"_

"_I feel like I'm repeating myself…. He has a valid script. He doesn't ask anyone to supply his medication except for Foreman or me. Foreman always makes sure that he doesn't have a script from me before he gives him one himself."_

"_So what does this mean?"_

"_It means that House is less dependent on the drugs. He is going cold turkey and it's the pain that is making him heave every hour or so. Not the DT's."_

"_One of the other charges is that he is an inadequate doctor…"_

"_His methods are a little extreme I will grant you that," _

"_Meaning?"_

"_House will go to any length to find a diagnosis to save his patients."_

"_Meaning?"_

"_He never gives up. He hates meeting patients, and usually saves it till the very last minute. But he always comes up with a crazy answer that usually ends up being right. He is incredibly smart, and cares about only one thing; solving the puzzle."_

"_Doctors are meant to care for patients aren't they?"_

"_Stacy you're asking me things that you already know. I feel stupid saying it over and over again."_

"_I know, but you gotta tell the whole story. These recordings are gonna be made into transcripts so the panel can review them. Now House's attitude towards Rachel?"_

"_I did say that he loves her to bits didn't I?" _

"_You did. Alright then. Let me ask you something."_

"_Ask away,"_

"_In 2006…?"_

"_Ah, the dreaded Tritter. Yes well, that is indeed a story best kept in the past."_

"_Tell me about it,"_

"_House… He never says it to anyone, but he hides a great deal of pain. On good days it is barely tolerable for him. On other days he can barely move and inside he is screaming. He will never tell anyone. He hasn't told me, but I know."_

"_How? You're not a mind reader."_

"_When his leg hurts, he always pushes things. He pushes the rules and everyone around him until they are at breaking point. When his leg hurts more than usual he becomes more agitated and deflects quicker."_

"_I'll take your word for it; you have known him the longest."_

"…"

"_Anyway, he was in a lot of pain that day. Detective Tritter had come into the clinic because he was suffering from symptoms that, I quote 'a monkey could diagnose'. House was rude to him, like he always is. Tritter didn't like it that much and demanded that House take him seriously. House complied so stuck a thermometer into the patient's rectum."_

"_Seems a little harsh,"_

"_Well you see, because of the gum Tritter had been chewing to quit his nicotine habit, it had played havoc with the weather in his mouth, thus producing an inconclusive reading of his temperature."_

"_I see. And how did this consultation end?"_

"_Well, Tritter moved the wrong way, breaking the thermometer. House being annoyed with the general lack of compliance left."_

"_And after the consultation?"_

"_House was riding home but was stopped by Tritter because he thought he was high on vicodin. Really Tritter just held a huge grudge."_

"_Very well,"_

"…_."_

"_Don't stare at me; it's not my fault that Simon managed to get a hold of House's records."_

"_Simon? As in Simon Wells? Rachel's biological father?"_

"_Damn."_

"_How did he get House's records?"_

"_He's a student lawyer and he knows a lot of cops."_

"_Seriously?"_

"_Seriously."_

"…"

"_Will you stop that?"_

"_Stop what?"_

"_Staring at me like it's my fault!"_

"_Staring? Who's staring? I'm looking at the recorder!"_

"_House booked himself into rehab?"_

"_Yes he did. He didn't complete it though. I guess it was too hard for him."_

"_In 2008 he entered Mayfield Psychiatric hospital?"_

"_Where he found other ways to manage his pain. Like cooking. He's an excellent cook."_

"_Now that I can't believe,"_

"_Really, his culinary skills are excellent."_

"_Okay, so he's weaned himself of opiate dependency, then what happens?"_

"_He struggled. Everything changed around him. It seemed that everyone was getting happier while he was stuck in a rut. Because of this his pain was returning. Finally he went back to vicodin after a year of staying sober."_

"_So he is addicted."_

"_He is not an addict. He only takes it when he needs it. He doesn't want to fall down that slope again."_

"_I don't know if I can believe that,"_

"_Well, you gotta," _

"_Okay, last question. In general, do you think House is capable of these things?"_

"… _Lisa once said that people think that House has no inner sensor; that he holds back. But the truth is, he actually very civil. He doesn't say things or do things just because it's fun to be mean. He says it because it is the truth and whether or not people want to know it, they _need _to know it."_

"_In general, Wilson," _

"_No."_

"_Any expansion on 'no'?"_

"_Whatever House does, he has always got logic on his side. He is always thinking rationally. He knows what is right and what is wrong. I do not believe for one second that he has done any of these things."_

**Please R&R, thanks!**


	16. Chasing Claims

**The following is a continuation of Stacy Warner's interviews and investigations. This time it is Dr Robert Chase and Dr Alison Cameron.**

"_Gonna tell me why you were fired by House?"_

"_We had differing opinions,"_

"_Really? House usually says that conflict breeds creativity,"_

"_Usually that's the way it is. But I had been his fellow for the longest. Fellowships are only supposed to last two years. I was with him for nearly four. I guess he just wanted a change."_

"_So he wasn't upset about Foreman leaving?"_

"_I doubt it,"_

"_You doubt it?"_

"_Well how am I supposed to know what that galaxy of a mind is thinking? The person who knows most about him is probably Wilson and he is discovering new things about House everyday,"_

"_I get it, not many people know the real House. Has he ever expressed any wishes to hurt Rachel?"_

"_No,"_

"_How would you know?"_

"_I go bowling with him and Rachel every week or so,"_

"_Really?"_

"_Yes. The change that Rachel has made to House's demeanour is remarkable. I'm not that scared about asking House if he wants to join me for a beer."_

"_So, when did you last ask him out for a beer?"_

"_Five years ago. When House finally decided to take a night off from looking after that kid,"_

"_Has Dr House ever appeared to want to physically or mentally harm his adopted daughter?"_

"_No. He loves that kid. Personally, I think it's the only thing that is keeping him together."_

"_So Foreman returned after what, several months of leaving House, then what?"_

"_House's new team disbanded after he went to Mayfield. When he returned so did I,"_

"_And your ex-wife Alison Cameron, but she left… Why?"_

"_Because our marriage was failing. She blamed House for it. I was willing to stay, she wasn't. She accused me of not knowing the difference between right and wrong."_

"_So why did you leave several years ago?"_

"_I was offered a job at the Mayo clinic. House, though he doesn't want to admit it, is close to retiring. Besides, it was nice to have a change,"_

"_But why did you come back to him in the first place?"_

"_I admire him, to an extent. The guy says what he thinks and is not afraid to bash anyone who has a differing opinion to his."_

"_That can't be the only reason,"_

"_I missed the puzzles. I like running around playing guess the illness, playing detective. I missed the energy of the differentials. Learning about obscure diseases and different treatments that can have many more uses than just the one disease that it was designed for, I missed that,"_

"_And?"_

"_That's it really,"_

"_Okay, House's vicodin abuse,"_

"_Do we really have to talk about that?" _

"_I guess not, I mean, Wilson could have been lying,"_

"…"

"_So his vicodin abuse,"_

"_He personally blamed himself for the deaths of Kutner and Amber. He wouldn't say, to anyone, the vicodin numbed everything for him, allowed him to remain disconnected."_

"_House never blames himself for anyone else's death,"_

"_True, not if he can help it. He was like a child, terrified of losing those who mattered most to him. He was scared that Wilson, his only friend would leave. After Kutner's death, he was scared that he was losing the one thing he really cared about; his quick, sharp mind. With Kutner's death he felt like if he had paid more attention, then maybe he could have prevented it. Truth is, no one saw it coming. House forgets that he is not superman, he can't always save the day,"_

"_Did Wilson hold House responsible for his girlfriend's death?"_

"_I think for a long time he did, but I don't know. He returned after a while without really explaining." _

"_So you don't know?"_

"_Ask Wilson,"_

"_Wilson is not that talkative,"_

"_. . . "_

"_Alright, so tell me about House's relationship with Cuddy,"_

"_Well to the ordinary outsider, it may just appear as a mutual hatred. It certainly appeared that way when I was first employed. House made no attempt to be nice to her and vice versa. But I think when you got to know them better; I kinda realized that it wasn't just hatred… It was something more. Cuddy genuinely loved House but he didn't realize that he loved her too, until the last minute."_

"_So, there was love?"_

"_I think House really did love her."_

"_Last question,"_

"_Fire away,"_

"_Do you think it is possible for House to have committed these things?"_

"_Each human has a capacity for evil. But no, I don't think for one moment that House could do that to another human being. He can draw the line between right and wrong,"_

"_Thank you Dr Chase,"_

…_.._

"_Dr Cameron,"_

"_Stacy,"_

"_How are you might I ask?"_

"_I'm fine,"_

"_Morning sickness?"_

"_How'd you-"_

"_House,"_

"_Ah,"_

"_Let's start, why did you leave House's team in 2010?"_

"_Long story,"_

"_Tell me,"_

"_No,"_

"_Personal reasons?"_

"_To a point,"_

"_Well tell me the non-personal reasons."_

"_I didn't agree with his methods,"_

"_Is that all your going to say about this?"_

"_Yes,"_

"_Alright then, do you know Rachel and House personally?"_

"_Not exactly. Rachel and I haven't really spoken to each other since Christmas last year. It's not because I don't like her, it's because I've been so busy with work and so forth,"_

"_So how did Rachel and House seem at Christmas?"_

"_Well as you know, House doesn't like celebrating religious holidays, but he had prepared a small special dinner for Rachel, Wilson and myself. They laughed and joked about the jumper Wilson had given House."_

"_Has House ever experienced intent on hurting his adoptive daughter?"_

"_No,"_

"_Are you sure?"_

"_Positive,"_

"_Alright, what about his methods, you said earlier that you disagreed with them,"_

"_He once told me that I had a ridiculous moral compass, always trying to do the right thing. He was right though, we are human and we do make mistakes. House doesn't in medicine though, he knows what is right and what is wrong and he knows what he stands for."_

"…_."_

"_You're asking me all the same questions you asked Chase and Foreman, ask me something that I can really talk about,"_

"_It is necessary to gather all the information I can to present in court. Not to talk about people's feelings towards the son of a bitch,"_

"_Then what else do you want from me?"_

"_I have a plan, but I need your help,"_

**Seeing a lot of subscriptions and author alerts, not many reviews... Please R&R!**


	17. Embrace

Rachel was on her own again. So frequently was she on her own that it didn't bother her anymore. She was exhausted was slowly losing her appetite and it was being replaced by a large unhappy feeling at the pit of her stomach. It was like a huge ravenous racoon clawing at her insides. She sat on her bed, listening to music that had been given to her by one of the other kids. It wasn't particularly good, but then again it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

There was a knock at the door. She didn't bother looking up.

"Rachel?"

"Hey Stacy," She replied.

"Honey, we gotta go to the station,"

"Why?"

"Long story," Stacy replied sighing. "A lot legal terms etc, but it's important that you come,"

Rachel pulled on her pink Timberland boots and went to her suitcase to change her shirt. Stacy smiled warmly and turned away as Rachel pulled on a grey jumper that was picking at the seams.

"Ready?" She asked.

Rachel nodded, pulling her hair out from under the collar. She picked up her jacket and her mobile and followed Stacy down to the BMW out in front. Without being asked, Rachel slid onto the passenger seat and waited.

"Hey Rach,"

Rachel looked over her shoulder. In the back seats were Wilson and Cameron. They smiled at her reassuringly.

"What are you guys doing here?" She asked curiously as Stacy got in the car and turned on the ignition.

Wilson shrugged. "It's a nice day and I wanted to get away from the hospital."

Rachel frowned and looked out at the dismal grey clouds as they began to drip heavy drops of rain. "Right," She said.

"Seatbelt," Stacy said.

Rachel obliged and looked over at the two grinning doctors in the back seat. She observed Cameron especially.

"Are you pregnant?" She asked.

Cameron looked up. "How'd you-"

"You can't miss it, you've put on about twelve pounds since we last saw each other, and because you're a health freak it only leaves pregnancy to the table," Rachel explained. "Nice engagement ring,"

"You definitely have your dad's talent at pointing out the little things," Cameron chuckled.

"So you are?"

She nodded.

"Got a name picked out yet?"

"No, Stephen doesn't even know yet,"

"So when are you going to tell him?"

"Soon,"

"How soon?"

"Soon, don't worry, besides I'm pretty sure he's going to realize something isn't right when I can't fit into my normal clothes anymore,"

Rachel said nothing. She sighed. "It's good," She said finally. "Congrats, a kid, wow… really its good…" She smiled warmly.

Stacy looked over at the thirteen year old, forgetting how young she really was. Of course Cameron being pregnant would remind her of her parents. Comfortingly, she patted the girl's knee.

"I'm fine," She said.

"I know," Stacy replied, taking a turn, knowing that she really wasn't fine.

They spent the rest of the car journey in an uncomfortable silence. Stacy relieved the tension slightly by switching on the CD player. Soon the song "Behind Blue Eyes" by the Who began to warble out. Rachel said nothing at this, but stared out of the window helplessly. She hated this feeling. It was like she had died and was having some sorta weird outer body experience. In the cold cramped space, she shared air with the ones who knew her father for a lot longer than she had and that made her uncomfortable. It was not a pleasant feeling to know people who knew more about your father than you did. She leaned back on her seat, watching the grey streets roll by. She began to realize that these streets were more or less the same. It was tiring to watch ugly plain houses just sit there with no life and no real meaning.

Stacy parked up beside the station, Wilson, Cameron and Rachel all clamoured out. Stacy was the last to get out, but she led them confidently into the station.

Wilson stopped at a small coffee machine. "Rach. You want one?"

Rachel looked over at him, she shook her head. "No thanks Jimmy," She said.

After talking quietly to the inspector for a moment, Stacy smiled again making Rachel nervous. The inspector sighed with a distained look on his face and led all four of them to a closed off room. He unlocked the door.

"Go on in," Stacy urged. Rachel looked up at the lawyer. What was she up to? Nevertheless, Rachel poked her head around the door.

"Dad?" She croaked, her voice going dry.

House stood leaning a bit more heavily on his cane than Rachel would have liked. His face was thin and worn and it looked like he had been going through hell these past few months. His blue eyes widened.

"Rachel?" He asked.

Rachel ran up to him, grabbed him around the waist and hugged him tightly, fearing to let go. House stood there staggered for a moment, and then tentatively, he stroked her hair. Rachel held onto his shirt crying into it.

"Daddy!" She moaned. "My daddy…"

House felt a tear escape his eye. He kissed the top of his daughter's head. He breathed slowly, trying to keep his emotions under control. It didn't work. He tossed his cane to the side and lifted his daughter into his arms, holding her and hugging her, never wanting to let go.

From the door, Cameron, Stacy and Wilson watched smiling at each other.

…

House and Rachel sat slumped against the wall talking intently about the experiences that they had had over the last few months. Rachel had gone to particular detail in describing the horrors of the Children's Home. House listened knowing that it couldn't have been that bad. He held Rachel close under his arm.

"Do you think we'll get this solved?" She asked, looking up at him.

"I don't know," He said. "I really don't… I hope so, I mean…"

"Have you really been detoxing?" Rachel interrupted.

He looked at her. "Twice actually,"

"Really?"

He nodded. "The first time was unsuccessful, but, I'm thinking more clearly now,"

"You're still on the vicodin aren't you?"

"One a day, that is all,"

"Really?"

"You don't need to sound so shocked." He looked over at Stacy. "Is there anyone else you want to talk to before my court case?"

"Well the names and addresses of Rachel's teachers,"

"Go to her school to get them," House replied. "Anyone else?"

"Neighbours?"

"Seriously, you don't know where I live?"

"Rachel's friends?"

House couldn't answer that. He looked quizzical at his daughter. Rachel sighed.

"I don't really have that many close friends," She said. "I mean I have friends, but, everyone I really like is in this room,"

Stacy looked at them. "That's gonna pose a problem."

"Why?"

"Well, in sexual abuse cases, the victim usually alienates their friends and family… The judges might not take kind to the fact a girl your age has no friends."

Rachel sighed. "You gotta pen?"

Stacy nodded and pulled out a pen and notebook.

"Alright, try Thomas Campbell he lives at 21 Green Street a few blocks from Princeton Cemetery and public library,"

"I bet he's cheery in conversations," Stacy muttered, writing down the address. "Anyone else?"

"Lesley Elrik is the next best bet; she lives on Henry Avenue,"

Stacy looked up. "Okay, that should do,"

House frowned. "Are you going to be interviewing Tritter?"

"No," Stacy replied. "I have to portray you in a good light, Tritter is not going to let help your case,"

House nodded, observing her quietly. Rachel looked up at him.

"Thanks for the locket," She said.

House smiled at her. "Did you see the picture inside?"

"Yes, I never thought I'd see the day when you were wearing a red Christmas jumper." She smiled.

"It was a long time ago," He said smiling.

"I know, you didn't have scruff," Rachel teased.

House smiled and kissed her forehead, she snuggled closer to him. He closed his eyes just feeling her close to him. He wanted nothing more than to take her straight home, to indulge her with gifts. He wanted nothing more than to be with her for as long as she needed him.

Stacy stood up, wiping down her suit. "Rachel," She said sadly. "We have to go, the inspector only permitted us two and a half hours, and we've been here for almost three,"

"I don't want to leave!" Rachel cried. House sighed and struggled up. She grabbed him underneath his arm and hauled him to his feet, seizing his cane from the floor and giving it to him.

"You have to go," House said.

"But dad!" Rachel moaned. She sounded like an impatient toddler, whining about a toy she wanted really badly. House couldn't help but smile softly at this.

"Rachel, don't do this again," House said calmly. "Don't fight something you can't control,"

Rachel looked at him. "The House I know would never say that,"

"Please, Rach," House said, placing a gentle hand on her cheek as tears began to roll down her pretty face. House kissed her forehead. "Don't worry," He said softly. "This will be sorted soon and we'll be back together listening to the music at the local jazz bar. Love ya Rach,"

Rachel nodded. "Love you too, dad," she said. House kissed her cheek again. Wilson sighed, watching them both. Rachel hugged her father tightly before Wilson led her out. House watched his daughter leave. He looked over at Stacy and at Cameron.

"Thank you for this," He said, looking at the ground.

Cameron, realizing that this was hard for him to admit, rubbed his shoulder as he pressed his and against his face. Sighing, he looked at them both then looked away again.

"Thank you for letting me see her," He said. "Thank you so much..."

Cameron sighed. "Greg," She said, using his first name. House looked around, knowing that this was important. She smiled and rubbed his shoulder.

"Stacy and I… Well, we have this idea… We're not sure if it's gonna work, but it's worth a go…"

House stared at them.

**Again a lot of subscriptions and stuff, but what I really REALLY want is reviews! Please comment!**


	18. Plans & Confessions

Rachel was led out of the room by Wilson. Tears streaming down her pretty face as she watched her father wave goodbye to her.

"Love ya, dad," She said softly, but loud enough for him to hear it.

House smiled at his daughter; his beautiful, intelligent daughter. "I love ya too, Rach," He said, wiping away what seemed to be tears… Rachel wasn't sure. She looked up at Wilson.

"Please make sure he's okay," She whispered, giving her uncle a huge hug. "Please, look after dad,"

Wilson stood dumbfounded, looking at the thirteen year old, admiring her strength and her compassion. He was amazed at the mere depth of her love for the man who wasn't really her dad.

…

Wilson had seen a remarkable change in House's demeanour after he had finally been reunited with Rachel. Albeit temporarily, his mood had been elevated to something that Wilson could not recognize. Or at least not in the curmudgeon doctor.

Wilson sat in House's living room as his best friend whistled happily in the kitchen. Wilson was under the impression that he was cooking because a rather pleasant smell was emitting from the pots and pans. Wilson didn't not question it; he didn't know how long this happy mood would continue. House's TBO was packed with different things. Wilson didn't know what to choose. Right now he was watching something about Microsoft and the development of technology throughout the nineties.

House looked around the door frame. "Jimmy," He called. "Do you want garlic bread?"

Wilson frowned. "Sure, Greg…"

House stared at him. "Are you mocking me?"

"Yes," Wilson nodded.

"Hm," House shrugged and continued to work on his dinner, whistling away in a quiet happy way.

Wilson frowned, getting up and following his friend around the kitchen. House limped around freely, not bothering to use his cane, but he acted as if his leg didn't bother him as much. It was like the happiness of seeing Rachel had released healthy endorphins keeping him from the pain that he was normally in. House bustled past the oncologist and grabbed two plates from one of the top cupboards, continuing to hum in happiness. He set the plates onto the table and went to the stove. Carefully he strained some spaghetti over the sink, before placing some on each plate. Then he grabbed a pan filled with sauce. He tipped some out onto the top of the spaghetti. Finally he grabbed a bowl and tipped garlic bread into it. He handed a plate over to Wilson, grabbed his cane and slung it over the crook of his arm. Then he grabbed the bowl of garlic bread and limped into the living room, still whistling away.

Wilson sat down beside him watching his friend's behaviour with curiosity. House took a bite of his food and looked at his friend. Wilson's eyes widened and he took a tentative bite.

Delicious. Better than most food that he had tasted. He wasn't in the mood to boost House's ego. He took a bit of garlic bread.

"Did you make this?" He asked.

"From scratch? Yes," House replied, changing the channel.

Wilson took a bite. "It's good," He said.

"Well of course it is!" House exclaimed. "It was created by me!"

"So are you going to tell me what the plan Cameron, Stacy and you have come up with?"

"Nope,"

"House,"

"Jimmy?" House looked at him.

Wilson sighed. "You're impossible,"

"I know," House said, taking another bit of garlic bread. They sat in silence for a few minutes and all that could be heard was the scrapping cutlery as they ate the meal House had prepared. There was a sharp knock that filled the room. House jumped up and limped to the door. He peered through the peep hole and smiled happily to himself. He unlocked it and clicked it open. Stacy entered, kissing his cheek.

"How are you?" He asked.

She smiled warmly. "I'm good, ooh, what's this you've made?" She sounded like a mother crooning at her son. House picked up on this.

"I'm not six anymore," He said gruffly. "It's just some spaghetti and garlic, there is enough for you in the kitchen."

"Is it any good?" Stacy asked Wilson who slurped up a string of spaghetti slopping red sauce down his front and on his chin.

He nodded. "Yes…. Good…. Very much…." He said his mouth full of pasta.

Stacy sighed and took off her jacket, handing it to House in a contempt manner. He grinned at her stupidly and hung the jacket over a chair.

"I'm here to talk about the plan," She said.

"Stop calling it a plan," House replied. "It makes you sound stupider than you already are."

Stacy folded her arms. House looked away. "Sorry," He muttered.

She smiled sweetly and sat on the sofa beside Wilson, helping herself to a bit of garlic bread. "Now, do you understand what we are going to do?"

House looked at her with some ounce of distain. He sighed. "You're gonna find someone from my past, get them to testify _against _me, but you are going to make what they say so bad that there would be no judge on earth that would believe them. Teamed with the little evidence they have against me, the trail should be a snap." House said. "It's depressing, and sad that it should come to this, but hey, you're the boss."

Wilson stared at them.

"What?" House asked.

"Nothing," His friend shrugged. "It's just… That's the plan? I thought it was going to be a little more daring, perhaps have Simon killed by the mafia or something…"

"Greg can't risk killing someone else," Stacy replied. "Otherwise it would have been a serious consideration on both our parts,"

"Jeez, what an anti-climax." Wilson muttered.

"Things aren't always what they appear in the movies," Stacy said, smiling softly.

Wilson sighed and grabbed a bit of bread. He munched on it carelessly as Stacy leaned towards House.

"How you feeling?" She asked. "I'm sure it wasn't comfortable being torn away from your daughter again."

House gave her a look. "I'm better than I have been in weeks." He said. "You gave her back to me, albeit for only a few hours, she was my daughter again. I don't care how long this takes, I don't care if it kills me… I will have my daughter in my arms again."

Wilson and Stacy smiled at this. House sighed. "Stacy… I think I've done something stupid."

"If your going to say that you _did _abuse your daughter, I will have to kill you," Stacy smirked.

House shook his head. "I know that it was Simon…"

Stacy stared at him.

House cleared his throat, ready to continue. His blue eyes were blank as if he was in pain for what he was about to admit.

"House," Wilson asked. "What is it?"

"Simon and I have been in contact for the last 5 years…" House whispered. "And a few months ago… I did something stupid…"

**Little shorter than usual. Remember to review, I like hearing people's thoughts... Thanks.**


	19. Simon

_Rachel smiled and left. House yanked his cell out of his pocket and called a number. _

"_Hey, it's Greg, are you in town today?" House asked. _

_There was a pause, then a voice rang out. "House, I didn't expect to hear from you,"_

"_Simon," House said. "I've told Rachel about… Well her parentage,"_

"_I see," Simon replied gruffly._

"_You haven't answered my first question. Are you in town today?" House asked._

"_Well, I'm in early today, client you see…"_

"_I want you to meet her," There was no reply. "Simon?" House asked. _

"_How very touching," Simon said. "After nearly 10 years of you denying me access to my own child, now you wanna make all nice?"_

_House sighed, rubbing his forehead. Why were so many people rude to him? "Simon," He said. "Please, this is for Rachel, she needs to know who you are."_

_There was a sigh. "Do you know the coffee shop beside the public library? I'll be expecting you there about eleven."_

"_Thank you," House said._

…_.._

_House limped across the street. His leg was hurting more than usual. He stopped outside the small curiosity shop, seeing the little locket that Rachel always admired. He looked at it for a moment, smiled to himself then carried on. The coffee shop wasn't that far from House's apartment, but he had taken the car just because it was quicker for him to drive than it was for him to walk. Simple as that really. He stopped the edge of the street and saw Simon sipping a cup of coffee outside the shop. Spread in front of him was a large newspaper. House sighed and limped over to him._

_Simon folded the paper and looked up at the older man. "Gregory House," He said. _

_House nodded and sat opposite. "It's good to see you, Simon,"_

"_How have you been?"_

"_Don't," House said. "Don't start with the pleasantries. They are boring and what's more, their insincere." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his vicodin bottle. He tipped out a couple of pills and popped them into his mouth, swallowing them dry. _

"_Still on the pills?" Simon asked._

"_Still a pain in the ass, I see," House observed._

"_If you see me as a pain in the ass, then why did you ask to meet me?"_

"_Because, I'm not doing this for me," House said. "I'm doing this-"_

"_Because Rachel needs to know her real father," Simon finished with a bored and uncaring look on his face. "I don't care,"_

_House frowned. "How could you not care about your own daughter?"_

"_Maybe because she is not my daughter," Simon replied. House stared at the younger man. Fury raged inside his veins, he felt his knuckles break. Then with all his strength, he repressed the urge to punch him. House sighed._

"_Studying law?" He asked, gritting his teeth. _

"_Studied law," Simon corrected. "Past tense, Greg," He sighed and leaned back. "Do you want a coffee?"_

"_No," House said. "It's fine."_

_Simon folded his arms over his chest. "So, you told Rachel about Natalie,"_

"_Yes,"_

"_Lisa?"_

"_Yes,"_

"_Me?"_

_House looked at the younger man, envying his youth. He nodded slowly. _

"_Why?" Simon asked._

"_Because, she's young and she deserves to know the truth. I mean she's smart, if she didn't hear it from me then she would have worked it out by herself. Lisa wouldn't want her to be growing up living a lie and I know she wouldn't want me to die a hypocrite." House said._

_Simon smirked. He leaned forward and stared unquestioningly into House's blue eyes. Without blinking he said; "You are already a hypocrite, Greg, you've always been one. It's not going to change just because you have a daughter. Technically my daughter."_

"_You didn't want her remember?" House snapped. "You didn't even want to associate yourself with her mother! You lied to her, tricked her and-"_

"_I did nothing of the sort," Simon retorted. _

"_Don't argue with me," House gritted his teeth._

"_I'm arguing with you, old man!" Simon said. House looked hurt for a moment, shocked at the insult. "Oh, did… Did I hurt p-p-poor l-l-little Greg's feelings by calling him old? Guess what, I don't care, because you are old."_

"_Why are you doing this?" House asked. "Is it because Cuddy adopted Rachel and you refused to be apart of her life?"_

"_No," Simon said, taking a sip of his coffee. "I won't be so harsh."_

"_Then why are you doing this?" House asked. "Please, I want to know."_

_Simon refused to speak. House sighed. _

"_I really want you to meet her," House said. "She's so beautiful and smart and confident… I think you should be a part of her life."_

"_You shouldn't even be a part of hers," Simon said, getting up. House stared at the young man. He picked up his newspaper. "Goodbye Greg, I hope you have a pleasant life. Or at least… What's left of it," He grinned cruelly. _

_House in a moment of pure violent rage, grabbed his cane and hooked it to Simon's shoulder, pulling him back roughly. Simon stumbled almost tripping over his own feet. If the situation had not been so serious, House would have laughed. He stood up, leaning against his cane. _

"_You're a bastard," He shouted. "You fail to recognise what you have in front of you!"_

"_No, Greg," Simon replied. "You're the bastard, you don't seem to recognise what you could have had," He looked at the doctor up and down. "I hate you; you don't even deserve her,"_

"_Her name is Rachel you complete utter cu-"_

"_Language, Dr House," _

"_You know what," House said limping over to Simon. "I hope she never wants to meet you. It's better that you are out of her life instead of inside it making her miserable!"_

"_How old are you?" _

_House frowned. Simon's grin grew wider._

"_In a few years time, you will die, and custody will immediately pass to me. So enjoy the time you have left with her," _

_House stared at the lawyer. Then without a second's hesitation, he punched Simon square in the jaw. Simon staggered for a moment. House, feeling victorious, limped away._

**Thinking about making a prequel to "Dad", about Cuddy's cancer… What do you think?  
Please R&R**


	20. Damn

Stacy looked at House. "You didn't,"

House tapped his cane, not replying. She stood up and put her hands on her hips. She paced a little before turning back to him, chewing her lips. She slapped him across the shoulder.

"Gregory Jonathon House!" She cried. "How could you be so stupid and immature?"

"I… I don't know what came over me," He said. "He was being insulting and cruel…"

"And you felt that could be fixed with a punch to the face?" Wilson asked.

"Don't you get involved," House said.

"House this is serious; they could get you on a GBH charge!" Wilson replied.

House stood up, pacing, his hand against his forehead. "I know," He said.

"Among other things, what else have you done to Simon that we don't know about?" Stacy asked.

"We only met that one time. I mean we stayed in close contact, but we haven't seen each other since Rachel was adopted." House replied.

"What is the real reason?" Stacy asked. "Why did you go see Simon that day?"

"I…" House stopped looked at his two most trusted friends. "I wanted her to know…"

"Don't lie," Stacy snapped.

House sat down and pushed his head against his cane, wishing the world to leave him be. "Because," He said. "I'm an old man," Wilson and Stacy stared at him. He looked up at them. "Don't," He said. "Don't look at me like that…."

"What do you mean?" Stacy asked.

"You know perfectly well what I mean," House said. "I've almost died 4 times. Soon, I won't be able to take care of her; I won't be able to be there for her when she needs me. I want her to have a happy life. I don't think I can do that anymore."

Stacy fell down beside House, putting an arm around him. Wilson watched.

"So, meeting Simon was a vain attempt to try and give him parental guardianship?" He asked.

"No, not exactly. I would have left her with you," House looked up. "I would have, but you have to look after your own family. I just wanted her to have a chance at a normal life… After I've died… Besides, maybe she does belong with Simon…"

"That's not the House I know talking." Stacy said. "What happened to the fighter? The one who didn't believe in fate or destiny?"

House looked at her. "I just don't want her to be left without any family."

"If Simon really wanted to be a part of her life, then why sabotage House? Surely if House-"

"Don't you understand James?" Stacy asked. "It's not about Rachel being with House, it's not that Simon wasn't apart of Rachel's life. It's because Simon believes House has corrupted his daughter. He wants to tear down any happy memory of House that Rachel had and replace them with happy memories of them together. He doesn't feel connected to his daughter as much as he should be. By destroying House, he has a chance to be happy,"

"Surely he should think about Rachel and what she wants," Wilson said.

"Have you learnt nothing from my speeches?" House asked. "We do not do things for other people. We do these sort of things for ourselves, because we want or need to be happy."

Wilson sighed. "I'm just trying to make sense of it all."

"You and me both," House replied.

…

Rachel was in a bad mood. Her clothes were flung across the entire room, as she tried to find something to wear. Of course, she was not in a bad mood about her clothes. That would be ridiculous. Instead she was in a bad mood because she missed her dad. Now more than ever. What Stacy, Cameron and Jimmy did was just cruel. To give her only a few precious seconds with her father, before having her ripped away from his side for the second time. Didn't anyone find that remotely cruel?

Her room felt colder than it had when she first arrived. She couldn't describe in words what she felt in her heart. She just wanted to be with her dad.

Granted he was a pain in the ass. Overly protective, overly worried, bizarre as hell frozen over… But he was always there for her. He always respected her; he always wanted to make her happy. He applied correct discipline not that he ever need to) where required. He taught her, helped her take her first steps. Pushed her on the swings when she was little… Bought her ice cream when it was hot, made her hot chocolate and marshmallows when it was cold…

She shook her head of all nostalgic thoughts. The more she thought about him, the more she missed him.

There was a knock at the door. Rachel ignored it. She was fed up of people coming to visit her. Unless the next visitor to walk through the door was Simon come to apologize to her, she wasn't interested.

"Rachel?" Asked a voice.

Damn. Rachel thought. It definitely wasn't Simon.

"What?" She asked, not bothering to look around.

"Um… My name is…" He sighed. "Could you please turn around?" He asked.

Rachel rolled her eyes and turned. At the door was a short stocky man with an unshaven face. He wore a red checked shirt over a plain white t-shirt. In his right hand he held a tiny piece of paper that had been scrunched up, and then unrolled a couple of times. His eyes were darker than her dad's but still blue.

"Yes?" She asked curtly.

"Um… Hi," The man said. He extended his arm. "My name's Lucas, I'm a…"

"Close friend of my father's?" Rachel asked. "Not interested."

"Actually no," Lucas said. "I was never really good friends with your father. I knew him whilst I was going out with your mother, Lisa Cuddy."

Rachel stared at him. "What do you want?" She asked.

"I just… I just wanted to see you," He said. "Stacy told me that you were in the middle of some huge scandal, I just wanted to see how much you had grown."

Rachel raised her eyebrows. Lucas took a step back and looked her up and down. "You're mother would be very proud of you," He said.

"Why because of my looks?" Rachel asked. "You don't even know me. For all you know I could be a world class criminal that is in the process of bringing a new threat of terrorism to the US,"

Lucas frowned knowingly. "Well are you?" He asked amused.

Rachel looked at him. "No," She said. "But I could have been!"

"Trust me," Lucas said. "If House is to go anything by, I'm sure your one of the smartest girls in your year."

Rachel looked away.

"And if anything, you are more modest about it than House," Lucas smiled. "I… I'm head of the investigation. It wasn't me personally to begin with, but it caught my attention. I kinda had to get involved."

Rachel faked a yawn. "Tell me the real reason to why you're here," She said.

Lucas sighed and sat beside her. "I loved your mother. Watching her die was the worst thing I have ever had to endure. I never truly got over it. What hurt the most is that House, the man who insulted her for years, was entrusted with you and your safety."

"Why are you telling me this?" Rachel asked.

Lucas put a hand to his head. "Don't you think that you would be better off with Simon? I mean he is your real father,"

Rachel looked at the PI. "Greg House is my father," She said quietly. "I don't care what you say. I don't care that my blood and his don't match. I don't want Simon in my life."

Lucas pursed his lips. "Simon loves you," He tried.

"If Simon really loved me then he would understand that I live with dad, albeit adoptive," Rachel said. "He wouldn't sabotage my happiness for his,"

"He honestly believes that you would be happier with him," Lucas replied.

"Well tell him that I wouldn't be,"

"I'm not in contact with him," Lucas said. "I'm speaking independently."

"Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it," Rachel said, disbelievingly.

Lucas didn't reply to that comment. He rubbed his knee and stood up. "I know this is hard on you, choosing between who loves you most."

"I love my real father," She said. "And not the biological one, I'm talking about the one who changed my diapers, taught me how to ride a bike, and helped me through the tough times."

"So that's House?"

"That's House," She said, smiling. "Listen, Lucas. I appreciate what you're trying to do. I know it must be tough on you being that my mother left me with House instead of you. I know you are just trying to do the right thing, but I just want to go home."

Lucas patted her shoulder. "Bye Rach," He said.

"Hope I never see you again," She said.

"Ditto to that," He replied.

**Seemed to have lost my stride in the last two chapters, I apologise for that. Been getting back into Angel and writing fics for that instead. Please Review!**


	21. Tribunal

Lucas climbed into the Mercedes and looked over at Simon.

"Well?" The lawyer prompted.

Lucas sighed. "Sorry man, she's like content about getting back to House," Simon looked disappointed. He pulled out his wallet and handed over a couple of hundreds. Lucas took them from his hand. "Cheers," Lucas said.

"You're an idiot," Simon said. "I thought you were smart when I hired you,"

"Well, I'm not," Lucas replied. "House figured that out when he hired me to spy on Wilson."

Simon turned. "You didn't mention that," He said.

"Didn't think you were interested," Lucas shrugged.

"Like I said," Simon sighed. "You're an idiot," He started the car and they drove off.

…

House sat beside Stacy, uncomfortable in his suit. To the other side of him; Wilson was seated. Foreman, Chase and Cameron also sat around. Cameron looked uncomfortable being seated next to her ex-husband, especially when she was showing her bump so proudly to the rest of the world. Aside from these recognizable faces, the table was filled to boiling point with lawyers and judges. Seated opposite House sat Simon and Lucas.

House pulled at his tie feeling suffocated. Stacy hit his hand.

"Sit still," She ordered.

He looked up at her. He didn't answer.

"Alright," Said one of the judges. "Let's get this over and done with. We are called here to review Dr. Gregory House's parentage status whether or not he is capable of continuing as a Doctor and as an adoptive father to one of Rachel House." She pulled her notes further. "This tribunal will determine whether this case moves to court." She sighed and opened her note book. "Seated at the chair," She dictated. "is Harriet Shearer. Mr Wells, can you please describe your distresses."

Simon sighed. "My daughter, Rachel Wells was taken from me when she was barely a month old. She was adopted by Dr Lisa Cuddy after her mother Natalie died. I was not permitted to see my daughter until she came of age and I could be held as a responsible adult."

"Rachel Wells?" Shearer asked. "In the paperwork it says 'Rachel House'."

"After Dr Cuddy died, she left guardianship with Greg House," Simon explained.

"If Dr Cuddy left her adoptive daughter in the care of Dr House, she must have had good reason," Shearer said.

"She did." Simon replied. "She loved House."

Shearer nodded. "Continue,"

"Dr House has previous against his name. I always wanted to remain within my daughters' life, but he never permitted me to," Simon said. "Then a few months ago he called me up to explain to me that he had told Rachel about her real parentage. He wanted to meet me."

"And you did?" Shearer asked.

"Yes, he was abusive and flaunted his drug addiction. He also provoked and angered me, and before he left, he assaulted me."

Shearer turned to House. "Is this true?" She asked.

Stacy spoke up. "Dr House wishes to express his regret at this. He admits to himself that what happened on May 28th was a mistake. He also wishes that his infarction be taken into consideration,"

Shearer held up her hand. "I've heard enough," She said, turning back to Simon. "Mr Wells,"

"Furthermore to this, I have been battling for years to have Dr House be taken from his post for his abusive nature in his practice," Simon said.

Shearer turned back to Stacy and Co. raising an eyebrow.

Foreman leaned forward. "Dr House's practice is under my charge. He does not pass anything until he has come to me. True, his methods may seem extreme, but he has saved more lives than hurt them. Though his brutally honest approach may be annoying, it gets the answers he needs to treat patients."

"So you acknowledge House's manner in his practice?" Shearer asked.

"Yes, but he is a valuable resource," Foreman said. "I'd trust him with my life,"

Shearer frowned, her lips pursed. She sighed and glanced towards Simon then towards her notes. "It also says that you accused Dr House of sexual and physical abuse. But it was cleared by a Dr Lauren Connor and Dr Robert Chase." She took off her glasses. "Now, one of you is lying."

Chase raised his hand timidly. "I'm Robert Chase," He said.

Shearer looked at him. "Yes dear, I kind of guessed."

Chase cleared his throat. "After a physical examination by Dr Connor, I reviewed the case notes and examined Rachel myself."

House shifted uncomfortable at this new piece of knowledge. Stacy looked over at him.

Chase paused watching his former boss. "It was concluded that Rachel had had no sexual experience of any kind."

"And this Dr Connor," Shearer said. "Is she a reliable source?"

Chase nodded. "She has been a part of my team for three years, she's very truthful and can only be described as a severe moral compass always pointing in the right direction."

Shearer looked at Stacy.

"A full psychological exam took place with Dr Elise Stone. She also concluded that though Rachel was slightly bizarre, she had no psychological damage and was in fact incredibly bright." Stacy said.

"Bizarre?" Shearer asked.

"Well, Rachel's not like other kids. She likes older music, books and she doesn't have much friends."

"No friends?"

"She describes that friends are 'a vain attempt to prove yourself worthy in the world… A boring and almost sinister thing to be influenced by their very presence'," Stacy smiled. "She is very much like her adoptive father in this sense."

"But children need friends," Shearer said. "That's how we survive in high school and eventually college."

"Oh she has friends," Stacy smiled. "She just doesn't make them her top priority."

"'She' has a name," House growled miserably under his breath.

"Okay, Dr House's drug abuse towards the substance known as vicodin?" Shearer asked.

"Dr House was addicted to the pills whilst treating Rachel's real mother Natalie," Simon said.

"Did you actually see him take the drug?" Shearer asked.

Simon looked at his feet. "Not exactly."

"Then how do you know he was addicted?" Shearer asked.

Simon rifled through his notes. "Dr House was admitted into rehab in early 2007 and then again when he entered Mayfield psychiatric hospital,"

"Whoa, Dr House you failed to mention that you had been admitted into a psychiatric hospital." Shearer said.

"A side effect of using vicodin along with the persistent torment on House's mind after his employee Lawrence Kutner's suicide is to begin to hallucinate. The stress also brought back memories of the bus crash in which Dr James Wilson's girlfriend Amber Volakis and gave Dr House tremendous guilt, though he had little to do with her passing." Foreman said.

Shearer nodded. "So, Dr House was admitted to Mayfield? Was he successfully weaned off the vicodin?"

"Yes," Cameron said. "But his pain had been increasing dramatically over the year. He is know back on the pills but he has limited himself to one a day,"

"This is ridiculous," Simon said. "How can you be sure that he is only taking one a day?"

"Because," Cameron said, turning a steely gaze to the 29-year-old. "I am the one who gives him his pills."

"And you work…" Shearer skipped a few pages. "At the Mayo clinic in New York?"

"That is correct," Cameron said. "But I have left to take on a new position alongside Dr Foreman as administrator to Princeton Plainsbro,"

House turned and looked at her. How come they never told him? Stacy was undeterred by this.

"I would also like to point out that Dr House has severe in his right leg due to an infraction he had in 1999." Stacy said.

"Yes, yes," Shearer said. "I have reviewed the notes. Mr Wells what is the real reason for you to accuse Dr House?"

Simon looked confused. "Haven't you been listening?" He asked.

"Oh," Shearer said. "I've been listening. I'm just trying not to think that all of what you said isn't bullshit."

"How dare you!" Simon raged.

"The truth, Mr Wells," Shearer prompted.

Simon folded his arms looking over at House. "Greg House took my daughter when I should have been passed guardianship. He took her away and corrupted her."

"Real reason, Mr Wells," Shearer said.

Simon looked over at her. "She is my daughter." He said finally. "I love her..." He smirked at House. "The money ain't that bad either," He said under his breath, so low that only House could hear him.

House looked at Simon. "What?" He asked.

Simon glared at him. "Don't look at me like that. You would have done exactly the same in my position."

"What?" House asked, his brow furrowed. Hadn't anyone else heard that? He looked around wildly at Stacy, who was staring intently at Shearer.

Shearer sighed. "My peers and I will convene. We will discuss whether or not this can go to full trail and let you know in a short while." She picked up her notes and left. House stood up and limped away. Stacy quickly gathered up her things and rushed after him.

**As ever, appreciate your reviews!**


	22. Guilty

Stacy found House outside one of the other conference rooms. His eyes were shut tight and his breathing was laboured. His entire frame shook in anger and he gripped his cane so tightly his knuckles were going white.

"Greg?" Stacy asked.

His eyes shot open and he looked at her. "It's always about money," He whispered. "Why didn't I see it before?"

Stacy sighed and rubbed his shoulder. "I know," She said soothingly.

House shook his head. "He's destroyed everything I built up. And I didn't see it till the last moment… What the hells wrong with me?"

"Maybe…" Stacy pursed her lips. "Maybe you wanted to see the good in him…"

House looked at her with those beautiful eyes. "Don't be condescending," He said, his nostrils flaring up. "I haven't changed,"

"I think you have,"

"Don't argue with me," House said.

"I think you wanted to believe the best of him," Stacy said. "Then maybe, you know, you might feel less pessimistic,"

House sighed. Cameron Foreman and Chase ran past. "Hey!" Chase said. "He's here!"

"House this is ridiculous-" Cameron said.

"-Complete bullshit-"

"-They can't make a court case out of it,"

"Shut up!" House ordered. The three doctors fell silent. House sighed. "Listen," He said. "I know you're trying to help me here and I appreciate it, but…" He shook his head.

Stacy rubbed his arm, soothingly. "Don't worry we're gonna get through this,"

House nodded. "Hold on," He paused and looked around. "Where's Wilson?" He asked.

"Getting your lunch," Chase supplied.

House's frown deepened. "Since when does Wilson buy my lunch _voluntarily?" _He asked.

They looked puzzled.

…..

Wilson found Simon outside the office's smoking. He saw the oncologist and turned his back to him.

"Oh shit," He muttered. Wilson put his hands on his hips and stared at the younger man.

"You're a right bastard," He said, gritting his teeth. "How could you do this? What mistake could you possibly make that got you laid off and trying to steal money from your own daughter?"

Simon blew smoke into Wilson's face. Wilson sighed and plucked the cigarette from his lips and stamped it hard on the ground.

"I had a big investment deal the other year," He said. "It crashed."

"House would have given you the money," Wilson said. "He may seem like a sadistic bastard but… He puts that on most of the time."

"I don't care," Simon said.

"Are you that thick?"

"Are you that naïve?"

"I hope so," Wilson said. "Either that or you really are the bastard you seem,"

"I have mouths to feed!" Simon shouted.

"And if you continue the way you are going, you'll have one more!" Wilson bellowed. He smirked and pushed his hand against his forehead, he rubbed his temples. "Just… Curl up and die,"

"You can't talk to me like that!" Simon said.

"I think I can," Wilson began to walk away. Simon grabbed his shoulder. Fuming, Wilson turned hard and punched Simon straight in the jaw. He stared at him for a moment. Then without warning, the oncologist scampered off.

Simon held his jaw his eyes wide. Slowly, his mouth curled into a smile.

….

The tribunal reconvened after an hour. House sat waiting for Wilson, but he didn't seem to turn up. Simon entered the room, massaging his jaw, sporting a huge bruise. Shearer sat down looking pissed off. Her two colleagues sat on each side of her, looking slightly smug.

Shearer opened her notes. "Right then," She said. "Due to a majority vote made by my peers, I have no option other than to say that Dr Gregory House, you will appear in front of a full court and present your case to a jury. Unless Mr Wells backs down from his claims, all charges remain until a date is set. Fail to make court, a warrant for your arrest will be submitted to the police." She looked up at the shocked House. "Sorry," She said.

Simon looked oddly gleeful. Cameron stood up, her entire body shaking in fury. "You can't do that!" She shrieked.

Foreman slammed his fist on the table. He stood up beside Cameron. "He is my employee!" He shouted. "Am I just supposed to harbour him whilst he has these claims chasing him? How is he supposed to practice medicine?"

Shearer sighed and took off her glasses. "Like I said, majority vote. I cannot overrule them," She gathered up her things and got up. Her followers scattered out of the room quickly. She patted House's shoulder. "I'm sorry. And… Good luck."

House looked up at her and nodded. He felt numb. His mind was a mess and he could barely concentrate. The world around him began to spin uncontrollably as he felt walls tumbling down on him. Simon just grinned.

….

Stacy handed House a glass of bourbon. He took it from her and looked at it.

"Maybe I am a terrible father," He muttered.

"No, something happened. I don't what, but our case was solid. Paperwork and everything. His was poorly constructed. He must have done something." Stacy said.

"Like slip them something?" Wilson asked.

"No, I mean sounds like he slipped them money," She replied.

"Like a bribe?" Wilson asked.

"No for a pole dance," Stacy replied sarcastically. House didn't even make an emotion. Stacy watched him carefully. "Greg, are you okay?"

House couldn't speak. His throat tightened up. Slowly, he shook his head. He looked at Wilson. "Where were you?" He asked quietly.

"Long story," Wilson said.

House as always never took things at face value. Nevertheless, he nodded. "Alright," Stacy rubbed his shoulder.

"We're gonna get you through this," She said.

"I don't think I wanna get through this," House muttered.

"What?" Wilson asked.

"Even if I do get her back… Well she's gonna find out that I went to Simon behind her back… She'll never trust me again. I would have lost one of the most precious last years I would have had with her before… Before I die… I don't know what to do," He said.

"We're gonna get her back," Stacy assured him. "I promise you, we'll get her back somehow."

House put his glass down. "Stacy, I miss her," He whispered.

"I know," Stacy said. "She belongs with you."

House looked at her. "Are we talking about the same person?" He asked.

"I hope so," Stacy said. "We are talking about Rachel, right?"

House shook his head. "I mean, I miss Rache and all that, she's my daughter and I love her… But…" He sighed. "I miss Lisa."

Wilson stared at House. Not once had the misanthropic doctor expressed that emotion. He nodded slowly. "I miss Lisa too," He admitted.

"I never…" House sighed. "I spent so long fighting her before realizing that I loved her,"

Stacy shifted uncomfortable. House looked at her. He sighed and rubbed his stubble. "Go home," He said. "There's nothing else to do tonight,"

Wilson patted House's shoulder and grabbed his coat. Stacy leaned over and pecked him on his cheek before reaching for her beige trench-coat and black purse. Wilson led her out the apartment. He stopped and looked at House who had led them to the door.

"Greg," He said, choosing his words carefully. "You're not a bad father. You've raised her exactly the way Lisa would have wanted you to, you deserve happiness."

House nodded. He looked at the floor. "Do you think I'm being punished?" He asked.

"For what?" Wilson asked.

House shrugged. "For everything," He said. "For how I was, how I treated people…"

"That's not the House I know," Wilson said. "The House I know, doesn't believe in that sort of stuff."

House barely smiled. Wilson sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow at work," He said.

House nodded. Wilson left. He closed the door behind him. He tossed his cane away and fell against the door. His world was tearing down in front of him. He couldn't stop it. It was terrifying. He hated it. A sharp throbbing pain shot through his leg as he sat on the floor. He knew that he couldn't spend the night there. Nevertheless, he closed his eyes wishing the world would go away.

**As ever, I love hearing what you think!**


	23. Hollow

House didn't bother turning up to work the next day. Wilson thought that this was perfectly acceptable. He would have left his best friend be, but Foreman had ordered him to go around and not to return unless Wilson dragged behind him House whining about how he had be torn away from his enormous stack of porn. The wonder boy oncologist thought that this was a bit harsh, but nevertheless he pulled up to House's apartment and rang the doorbell.

No one answered.

Wilson sighed, and reached up for the key hiding on top of the doorframe. Pleased with his own genius, he opened the door and entered the apartment.

"House?" He called. "House!"

No answer. Wilson hurriedly checked all the rooms. No one was in. He noticed that the answering machine was beeping. He considered to himself that because House always made a point to listen and read his mail, why not listen to his in return? He pressed the button and House's pretending-to-be-cheerful-but-really-miserable voice rang out.

"_Jimmy Wilson, listening to other people's mail is rude. I was expecting you to be honest. Just to let you know, I will not be coming into work today and maybe not even for the rest of the week."_

"Of course," Wilson said.

"_Now, I'm going to pause so you can make a wise crack," _

Wilson rolled his eyes. He saw some money lying on the table and picked it up.

"_I saw that!" _House's voice rang out. Wilson jumped, dropping the money. _"Put it down!"_

Wilson looked around for hidden cameras.

"_And no, I do not have hidden cameras." _House said. _"And yes to point out a rather blatant fact, yes you are that annoyingly predictable!"_

Wilson picked up the money again and pushed it into his pocket before sitting down on the chair. He sighed and listened to the recording of House tell him off. "Well? Get on with it!"

"_And now before you get all huffy with me and sit on my sofa pretending you're really pissed off with me, when really you're very impressed… I'm not going to tell you where I've gone. And tell Foreman to piss off and get you to do my clinic work."_

Wilson switched the playback off. He leaned down and rubbed his eyes. _Think Jimmy… THINK! Where would House go in a time of need? _Wilson's face lit up. He stood up quickly and left.

….

He opened the door to his apartment and saw House watching **his** TV and eating **his **potato chips. He looked around as Wilson slammed the door behind him.

"Damn," House said. "I thought that was extremely clever,"

Wilson nodded. "Well it was." He said. "But you forget I've known you too long."

House didn't answer but helped himself to another chip.

Wilson put his hands on his hips. "So, were you just going to stay here and hope that I wouldn't come looking for you then leave when you knew I would be leaving for work?"

"That obvious?" House grunted.

"A tad," His friend, indicating with his forefinger and thumb. He sat down beside House.

"Gonna turn me into Foreman?" House asked.

Wilson shook his head. "No," He answered. "I think he's being a bit unreasonable. I mean with what happened yesterday-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," House said turning up the volume. "Check out Low Down Blue Meany Mark III completely trash this Ferrari!" He said excitedly.

Wilson grabbed the remote from House. He looked over at the oncologist and sighed theatrically.

"Oh, Jimmy, what am I going to do with you?" He asked.

"How about get out of my apartment?" Wilson suggested.

"I don't like your tone," House said.

"Just, get out," Wilson said. "I'll tell Foreman that I can't find you."

House nodded. He stood up grabbed his cane and his leather jacket and limped off.

"That's it?" Wilson asked. "No threats? No blood spilling, no screeching?"

House looked at his friend. "No. We're adults. We compromise."

Wilson stared as House limped out of sight. He heard the familiar rumble of a motorbike start and then he knew House was gone.

…

Rachel found Stacy in the cafeteria waiting for her. Her entire face lit up knowing that today was the day she was going home with her dad. She ran up towards the lawyer, completely disregarding that the entire room was watching.

"Well?" She breathed excitedly.

Stacy looked up. She slowly shook her head. "Sorry honey," She said. "Something happened and… A full court date is to be set…"

Rachel stared open mouthed at Stacy. "But… You said… Not enough evidence… I thought…" She collapsed onto a chair, pressing her hands into her face. Tears trickled down her pretty face.

Stacy stood up and hugged the thirteen year old. "I know, god I wish I could make this better…" She sighed. "Don't worry, I'm gonna get you through this," She grabbed a napkin and held it out to her.

Rachel refused. "I'm not crying," She said, wiping away the tears with the back of her hand. "I am sick of crying. It's not doing anything." Her hand closed around her tiny locket. "Stacy, please. If there is anything I can do… Anything… I need to know…"

Stacy shook her head. "No, I'm afraid not. Any action requires a guardianship signature, which in this circumstance wouldn't work." Rachel looked downheartedly at her shoes. Stacy watched her and rubbed her shoulder. "Sorry honey. But this is gonna be tougher than I thought,"

Rachel looked up. "Can you do something?" She asked.

"Anything," Stacy comforted.

"I want to see Simon,"

….

House left Wilson's around 3 in the afternoon. He hopped onto his motorbike, and sped off into the distance towards his apartment. He came to the street and stopped.

He couldn't go back. There were too many memories. He sighed and did a 180 degree turn. He kept driving until he came to a familiar building. He pulled up beside it and parked. He stared at the lettering for a moment before getting off his bike and hobbling up to the familiar reception.

"Sorry sir," The Receptionist said. "Visiting hours are over,"

House stared at the receptionist. A pretty blonde thing wearing a tiny silver cross. He pulled out his identification. "I'm Dr Greg House-" He started.

"Oh, you're Dr House?" The Receptionist asked. He nodded, tucking his ID into his back pocket. "She's been waiting for you for a while. She asks where you've gone; it's good for her to get visitors."

House nodded, not really paying attention.

"You can go in," She said, handing him a visitor's badge. He took it and clipped it onto his rumpled shirt.

"Thank you," He muttered. He limped off down the hall and then to his right. He found Remy sitting on her own again watching the sports channel. She wasn't paying attention though. Her face lit up as she saw House approach her. Her hair was cut shorter, perhaps to stop her choking on it when she slept.

"Greg," She said making odd hand motions as he sat beside her. "Please, sit…"

"Hey Thirteen," He said. "How have you been?"

"Not bad," She replied. "I-I-I missed you though. Why haven't you visited?"

"I've been busy," He said. "Do you remember about what I told you?"

Remy nodded. "Your daughter… Or at least you hope she remains your daughter…"

"That's right,"

"Did you get her back?" Remy asked. Her head jerked violently.

"I should have," He muttered, looking at the coffee table.

"W-w-what do you mean?" She asked, curious.

"It means that… I think Simon's won,"

"No!" Remy said confidently. "You said that you would win… No evidence you said!"

"I know," House comforted. "And I should have, if they had dropped the case then I would have Rachel back within the night."

"Are you upset?"

House contemplated the lie in his head. "Yes," He finally admitted.

"The House I know would never admit he was sad." Remy said. "You've changed,"

House shook his head. "Why do people always insist that I've changed? I haven't."

"Maybe not in…" Remy gestured. "Looks," She lurched forward, pressing her hand against House's chest. It shook madly. "But in here,"

House took her hand gently in his. "I'm sure I haven't," He said. "There's nothing in there," He smiled gently in her.

"Hollow?" She asked.

"I think so," He said.

"I feel hollow most of the time too…" She said. "D-do you think that's right?"

House shook his head. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to think anymore," He said.

**As ever, I love reviews!**


	24. Just a Little Confrontation

Stacy paused, her hand on the door handle. She turned to look at the girl behind her.

"Are you certain about this?" She asked. "Who knows what he will say, what he might do afterwards."

Rachel looked up at the lawyer. She sighed. "No, I'm not sure," She said. "But, I know I have to do this. If I don't then this might drag out further than I want it to."

"What if it makes it worse?"

"Stop asking stupid questions," Rachel said, though she was terrified that this would push Simon into unspeakable things. She looked up again. "Sorry, I just… I just want to do this,"

Stacy nodded respecting the thirteen-year-old. She pushed the handle down and clicked the door open. Rachel stepped inside her bag clutched in her hands as she entered the room. Simon was pacing at the end of the room. He kept his face down, staring at the floor. He looked as if he wanted something, like a fix. Maybe a cigarette… Rachel cleared her throat. He looked up.

"Honey," He breathed. He rushed up to her side and gave her a tight hug. "Are you alright? Are they treating you well at the home?" His words merged together and Rachel couldn't understand him. She slowly pushed him away.

"Don't," She whispered. She looked around at Stacy. "It's okay, I'll be fine."

Stacy nodded, leaving her behind. Simon's demeanour changed in an instant. "What the fuck do you want?" He sneered.

Rachel looked at him knowing this was his true nature. "Did you bribe them?" She asked outright.

Simon looked at her. "No," He said. "I was outside having a smoke when your 'daddy's' best friend punched me." He gestured towards the bruise on his jaw line. It was beginning to turn a rather ugly shade of yellow as it healed.

"I don't believe that Jimmy did that to you,"

"Ask him, I'm sure he won't deny it."

Rachel didn't reply. She stared at the man she hated. Simon sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked.

"Why? Because Princess, I don't want to see you hurt," Simon said with a mocking tone. He stared at her. "What do you care?"

"Because," Rachel said. "I want to go home to my father."

"He is not your dad!" Simon shouted.

"He is more a father than you ever were!" Rachel screeched. "Did you ever take me to the park? Did you change my fucking nappies? Did you feed me? Did you ever hold me when I was upset?"

"That is not the point!"

"Of course it's the point!" Rachel shouted. "My father never-"

"He is not your fucking father!" Simon screamed.

The door opened. "What the hell is going on in here?" Stacy barked.

Simon looked up at the lawyer. He straightened his tie and sniffed. "Nothing," He said his voice calm and level. "There was a misunderstanding,"

Stacy's brown eyes flickered between them. "Rachel," She asked.

Rachel looked up at her. "It's alright Stacy," She reassured. She turned back to Simon. "You're not going to win," She said.

"You seem very confident for a thirteen year old girl." Simon sneered.

"I don't need to be confident," Rachel said. "I just need to be smart."

She turned on her heel and left. Stacy still looking at Simon. "Did you bribe the committee?" She asked.

Simon looked at her, he smiled. "Oh, wouldn't that just make your day," He said. He picked up his briefcase and left, passing Stacy and Rachel on his way out.

Stacy sighed and folded her arms. "Well, what exactly did that accomplish?" She asked the girl.

Rachel looked up. "Well, it tells me that Simon didn't directly bribe them. I think he got one of his cronies to do it,"

Stacy frowned. "Mm… I'll ask around," She placed a gentle hand on Rachel's shoulder and led her away.

…

Wilson found House hiding in the children's ward. He was slurping on a large cup of soda. The kids were watching mesmerized as he did small magic tricks between ad breaks. He was watching a rerun of 'Friends'. Wilson wasn't sure about the episode title. He put his hands on his hips and looked at House.

"What are you doing in here?" He asked.

"Doctoring," House replied. "Last time I looked I still had a medical license."

"Performing magic tricks is not really doctoring,"

House shrugged. "These guys seem to think differently." He leaned forward and pulled a quarter out of a kid's nose. He stared at it for a moment in complete shock then battered his tiny hands together in applause. Wilson had to admit, it was kinda cute.

House handed the kid the money and smiled. "You wanted something?" He asked.

"No," Wilson replied. He sat beside House on another chair, nodding towards the TV screen. "What episode is it?" He asked.

House smiled for a moment. "'The one with Ross's wedding Part 2'," He said.

Wilson reached over for the bag of potato chips. House slapped his hand away. Wilson frowned. "So it's okay for you to take my food, but the other way around…?"

"Yep," House said.

Wilson rolled his eyes. Katie entered holding a file. "House," She said.

"Yes?" He asked. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

Katie looked at the screen. She put her hands on her hips. "Doing what?"

"My job," He replied.

"Uh hu," Katie turned. "How many quarters has he pulled outta your nose in the last half hour?" She asked.

The little girl held up her tiny hands to indicate four. Katie sighed and turned back on the two department heads.

"I'm entertaining," House said. She raised an eyebrow. He sighed. "What do you want me to do?" He asked.

"Your job," Katie said. She held out the file. "66 year old male, heart trauma, passes out on his wife whilst getting ready for bed-"

"He's lying," House said.

"You think the echo-cardiogram was lying to us too?" Katie asked.

"No," House said. "I think that he was lying about getting ready for bed. What does it usually entail?"

Katie frowned. "Brushing your teeth," She said.

House rolled his eyes. "It's like I'm talking to a monkey!" He said exasperated. "Sex! They were having sex! His previous heart trauma, whatever it was, couldn't take the changes in blood pressure and heartbeat so it collapses!"

Katie stared at him.

"Sex!" He repeated.

"House there are children here!" She hissed.

"So? They're gonna learn about it one day from a porno, might as well teach them now before they get too curious!" House said. He stood up, grabbed the file and dropped it in the bin. "Case solved!" He limped away.

A little boy turned to Wilson who sat stunned. "Dr Wilson, what's a porno?"

….

**Remember, I love reviews, no matter how bad!**


	25. Genius

Stacy could not understand Rachel. She knew the vindictive mental abuse wasn't good on a growing brain. She knew that Rachel knew this. But the next day Rachel insisted that she should see Simon again.

Stacy decided that this time she would watch the CCTV footage whilst Rachel talked to her "father".

As Rachel entered the room, she reached into her pocket and made sure that everything was in order. She looked up at the sneering face of Simon.

"You again?" He said. "Fuck this, I'm gone," He began to move away.

"Curious isn't it?" Rachel said.

Simon stopped at the door and turned to her. "What is?" He asked in the same tone.

"You are so willing to get out of my way, yet you have put these claims forward because you care about me. Why is that?"

Simon sighed. He rolled his eyes and looked at the CCTV camera. He went underneath it and unhooked the wire. He then turned back at Rachel. "If I told you the truth, then you would think me selfish."

"I already think you're selfish," Rachel said. "You seem to only care about yourself. You have ruined nearly a year of my life. I am permanently tired and unhappy. I haven't seen my dad in nearly four months. My grades are slipping. My dad has gone through several serious attempts to detox completely-"

"Lies!" Simon hissed. "He's still pops pills!"

"That Dr Cameron prescribes!" Rachel said. She pursed her lips. "Did you bribe them to take the case?"

Simon looked at her, his eyes narrowed. "No matter what I say, I cannot prove my innocence to you,"

"No," Rachel said.

Simon's thin lips curled into a twisted smile. "You're as stubborn as House," he said.

"I hope so," She replied. "If anything my father's determination is what's keeping me strong."

"How many times must I fucking tell you that he is not your father?" Simon asked incredulously.

"I'll stop making you say it if you tell me that you did bribe them," Rachel answered.

Simon laughed haughtily. He looked at her and brushed his light blond hair from his eyes. "I guess you learned manipulation from your father too?" He asked.

"No. I figured it out on my own," She said. "Did you bribe them?"

"No,"

"Did you bribe them, Simon?" Rachel said, her voice raising.

"You will address me as 'dad'!" Simon said calmly, his hands balled up into fists and were shaking slightly.

"No!" Rachel said. "Did you bribe them?"

"NO!"

"Did you bribe them?"

"No!"

"Did you bribe them?"

"Would you fucking shut up you little whore!" Simon shrieked. "Of course I fucking bribed them? Otherwise the case wouldn't have gone to fucking court!"

Rachel stared at him. Relief of his confession seemed to be drowned by the overwhelming sense of fury and hate that began to run through her veins. She stared at him wide-eyed. He looked shocked at what he just said. Then he made sure that the camera was fully unplugged. He sighed and looked back at her.

"It's not like you can prove it anyway," He chuckled.

With that Rachel launched herself onto the bastard.

….

Or at least, she wanted to. She wanted to attack the son-of-a-bitch. She wished she could have hurt him, make him bleed. But she couldn't. Stacy had jumped in right at the wrong moment to take her home. Stacy was pissed off that the CCTV footage had gone. So Rachel had explained as calmly as she could that Simon had sabotaged the camera. The ride to the children's home after that was a tedious one. Rachel was so sure that she had fallen asleep in Stacy's car. She almost crushed the letter her mother had left her; she now kept it in her pocket along with her silver locket and her cell phone. Sometimes secretly she would send text messages to her dad. Sometimes he would reply, but most of the time he didn't. She wasn't too bothered, mainly because House couldn't work the new-fangled gadget. When he got it at Christmas, Rachel had taken photos of his bewildered face as he tried to work it out.

Stacy placed a gentle hand on Rachel's knee. "Honey," She said. "This is difficult, I know, but… It's your birthday soon. Is there anything particular you want?"

Rachel had shaken her head.

"Are you sure?" Stacy asked. "I'm sure I can arrange a visit from House."

Rachel didn't reply.

"Is there anything that you want?" Stacy repeated.

"I just…" Rachel sighed. "I just want to go back home,"

Stacy turned the steering wheel left, wishing she could make everything better. "Rachel, I need to know what Simon said to you,"

Rachel looked up. "He didn't say anything,"

"Are you scared that he would call you a liar?" Stacy asked. "This is useless!" She cried at the busy traffic. She sighed and pulled into a small car park. She left the ignition on and turned to face Rachel. "Please tell me," She said.

Rachel looked at the lawyer. Slowly she reached into her pocket and pulled out a tiny tape recorder. Stacy stared at it. Slowly Rachel hit play and Simon's voice rang out into the car.

Stacy's eyes widened intently as Simon confessed. Her face was suddenly gleeful. "Rachel, don't you realize that…" She took the tape recorder from her. "This is the kinda thing we need to prove what a bastard Simon is!" She saw Rachel's expression. "What's wrong, I thought this is what you wanted."

Rachel shrugged. "I know… But now I feel… Dirty. Like I've betrayed myself. That I'm becoming more like him… That me and him are more like each other than I'd like to admit."

Stacy bit her lip. "Alright," She said. "You wanna know something?" Rachel nodded. "This is something that House would have done. Not Simon. It proves that your House's kid." She placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Rachel rubbed her arm. "I guess," She said

"Rachel, you're a genius," Stacy said. "We present this to the court, they'll throw Simon straight to the dogs!"

"We can't show it to someone right now?" Rachel asked.

"Unfortunately not, we have to construct a case to present to the court," Stacy said. "This is just what we needed!"

She turned on the engine again, smiling and drove not caring about the traffic she was driving into.

….

House straightened the two lengths of the red tie. His stiff blue collar shirt itched his face. Slowly, he made a large knot and tucked back down his collar. Wilson lay on the sofa reading the funny pages. House grew steadily annoyed.

"Where were you during the intermission of the tribunal?" He asked.

Wilson put down his paper looking at House's reflection in the large mirror. "You don't care about that," He said.

"Yes I do," House said limping over to get his suit jacket which was hanging on the back of the office chair that was rolled away from the computer desk. He slid it on and buttoned the cuffs of his shirt. "You told them you were getting me lunch, but you didn't return with any sandwich. You didn't even return to the tribunal."

Wilson put the paper up to his face. "I hit Simon," He said shrugging.

House tugged down the paper to reveal Wilson's almost demented eyebrows. "You did what?" He asked.

"Don't worry," Wilson said. "They won't get me for that. I already have a lawyer on standby if he tries to get me on GBH."

"Doesn't exactly fill me with an air of confidence." House said. "Are you ready?"

"I've been ready for nearly twenty minutes," Wilson replied, stretching miserably. "I can't believe you're wearing a suit to work."

House looked down at his appearance. "It feels weird." He said.

"You're trying to make a good impression," Wilson said. "I think it's admirable. You're willing to give-up everything that makes you comfortable so you can win your daughter back,"

House gave him a look that suggested that the oncologist should stop talking. He grabbed his cane and his long winter's coat. Finally he and Wilson limped out of the apartment.

**I still love your thoughts! Keep those reviews coming!**


	26. Lonely

Stacy found House resting quietly on his own in the hospital cafeteria. She practically bounced over to him, her face filled with happiness. She stopped though and looked him up and down, confused that she might have the wrong person. House looked up at her.

"Yes?" He asked.

"You're wearing a suit," Stacy said disbelievingly. "Did you comb your hair?"

House straightened and tugged at the suit jacket. "Go on," He teased. "Say I look good,"

"You look…" Stacy struggled to find the words. "You look bizarre."

House was not expecting that reaction. He frowned and continued to pick at his fries. Wilson put a tray on the table and sat opposite his friend. "Have we gotten over how smart he looks today?" He asked. "It's getting annoying,"

Stacy smirked. "The sooner he's back to playing his gameboy and wearing his rock T-shirt, the better. He doesn't suit smart,"

"Thank you so much," House said sarcastically. "What are you doing here? I'm not meeting up with you till next Tuesday. Is Simon dead yet?"

Stacy shook her head.

"Not interested," House shrugged, helping himself to his coffee.

"You will be," Stacy said, sitting down. "I have Simon confessing that he bribed the jury to get them to take the case on tape."

House stared at her.

"How did you get him to do that?" Wilson asked.

"It wasn't me," Stacy said. "It was Rachel."

House looked at his shoes. "Is she alright?" He asked quietly.

Stacy put her hand on his. "She's fine. It was her idea. She wants to see you again soon,"

"Hey," Wilson said, slapping House's shoulder. "See, you'll get to see her!"

House stared at the oncologist. "Don't touch me," He grunted. Wilson retracted his hand and grabbed a few of House's fries. House sighed. "Sorry," He muttered. "I'm a little on edge,"

Wilson nodded, understandingly.

Stacy sighed. "Alright," She kissed House's cheek and hugged Wilson. Then she picked up her briefcase. "I'll see you on Tuesday,"

House nodded and watched her leave. Wilson turned on him.

"What did she mean by 'see you on Tuesday'?" He asked.

"Don't worry," House said, wiping between his fingers with a napkin. "We're not sleeping together,"

"Well it's just that it is understandable," Wilson shrugged. "You've been alone for nearly fourteen years. Before that you were alone, but pining for Cuddy. Before that, you were pining for Stacy and before that-"

"Yeah, yeah," House said. "Well done. You have cleverly deduced that I have not had a very successful love life. But it's better than 5 failed relationships."

Wilson frowned. "Five? I'm certain I only had three failed marriages."

House nodded. "Yes you had three failed _marriages, _I said you had five failed _relationships._"

"Name them for me," Wilson said.

"Well, there was Sam, Bonnie and Julie. Amber died. Then you started going out with your first wife Sam, which failed after Cuddy died." House said.

"I thought Sam would have counted as just one," He replied. He frowned and shrugged. "Alright, five it was. Are you just waiting to make it six?"

House frowned. "You and Margaret have kids. No way is it gonna fail. You're gonna try way too hard to make it work."

Wilson nodded. "True," He gave a crooked grin. "So you're not having sex with Stacy?"

House sighed and leaned back on his chair. "She's married,"

"Didn't stop you sleeping with her before,"

"In which immediately after I told her to go back to Mark and leave me alone," House replied. Wilson raised an eyebrow. House was just beginning to realize that Wilson's eyebrows were bigger than most rats. It was actually quite amusing. He helped himself to the last of his fries. "Listen," House said. "I love what Stacy is doing for me. I love that no matter how much I've screwed up her life she wasn't about to let me get dragged away to jail. I am grateful that she is the one who is defending me in this hideous…" His voice trailed. His words failed to form. He sighed and picked up his cane. "C'mon," He said. "This crap is disgusting. Let's go to Starbucks."

Wilson nodded, he grabbed his coat and he and House left.

…

_Je suis un homme de cro-magnon  
Je suis un singe ou un poisson  
Sur la terre, en toute saison  
Moi je tourne en rond, je tourne en rond  
Je suis un seul puis des millions  
Je suis un homme au coeur de lion  
A la guerre, en toute saison  
Moi je tourne en rond, je tourne en rond  
Je suis un homme plein d'ambitions  
Belle voiture et belle maison_

Rachel looked up from her book. A school tray had been placed on the table. A smiling guy looked down at her. He was tall, with dark hair and grey eyes. His clothes were casual, yet very stylish. He wore a checked shirt over a black t-shirt and his jeans were dark but fading around the knees. Rachel pulled out her earphones and looked up at him.

"Yes?" She asked.

He sat down opposite her. "I thought you could use a friend," He said.

"Why would I need a friend?" Rachel demanded.

"Because," He replied, picking up the red apple and wiping it slowly on a napkin. "You look lonely,"

Rachel looked him up and down. "You know, lonely and alone are two different things."

The guy frowned. "In some senses, yeah." He replied. "But, you seem to always be on your own." He extended a hand. "Matt Davidson," He said.

Rachel took his hand cautiously and shook it. "Rachel House,"

Matt frowned. "I think I've heard your name before," He said.

Rachel smiled. "A lot of people have." She said. "It's also a noun,"

"No," He replied, frowning slightly. "Were you on the debating team?"

Rachel sighed. "Yes, but I quit."

"Why?"

"Long story,"

"So? We've got…" Matt checked his watch. "Alright only a few minutes till class, but still…"

Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Whatcha reading?" Matt asked as she turned a page.

"Gaston Leroux," She replied.

"And who wrote it?"

Rachel gave him a disbelieving look. Matt's eyes widened. "I'm curious!" He argued. "Okay then, what are you listening to?"

Rachel glared at him. "Nothing," She said. "Because I'm talking to you,"

"You have wit," Matt observed.

"You have very little going for you," Rachel replied. "What do you want?"

"You're very pretty," He said.

"I know," Rachel said. "What do you want?"

"So, you're vain?"

"No, I'm happy with my own skin," Rachel replied. "What do you want?"

Matt shifted uncomfortably. "I want to ask you out,"

Rachel stared at him. "Alright, which clever prick gave you the dare?"

"Dare?" Matt asked. "I'm being as sincere as I possibly can."

"We only just-"

"Aren't you in my biology and German class?" Matt asked. "You sit beside that idiot Philip Wilson,"

"Phil is not an idiot," Rachel argued.

"Well he's not as smart as you," Matt replied.

"Of course not," Rachel replied, slightly agitated.

"So…" Matt bit into his apple. "Where do you live? I can pick you up."

Rachel smirked. She put her things into her bag and picked up her tray, moving slowly towards the bin to dump her half-eaten food. "I don't think so," She said.

Matt followed her, his hands shoved into his pockets. "C'mon, what's stopping you?"

"Right now?" Rachel asked. "I could give you a list."

"An enigma," Matt said. "Nice, I like puzzles."

"So does my dad," Rachel muttered.

"So…?"

Rachel frowned. "What?" She asked.

"Will you go out with me?"

Rachel sighed. "Listen, Matt. Right now, things are pretty chaotic. Maybe in a few months,"

"Well can we hang out as friends before then?" Matt asked.

Rachel shrugged. "I see no reason not to."

Matt smiled. "Great! So where do you live? I can come over tonight and we can talk a little bit."

Rachel sighed. "Right now my address is the Children's home, Princeton Plainsbro," She stalked off, leaving Matt standing by himself.

"Children's Home?" He muttered. "Weird,"

…

Rachel slammed the door of the toilet cubicle, ignoring the loudmouth sluts who were gathered around the mirror applying several layers of thick make-up. The entire bathroom smelled of harsh substances that would not be out of place in a chemical war bomb. Rachel sat on the toilet seat, her eyes filled with tears. She wished she could go out with guys. But she couldn't. She couldn't open her heart to someone who might spread it around the school. With everything that had been going on… She wasn't safe.

She pulled out her cell phone as the bell rang. She didn't bother getting up. But she watched the sluts parade out of the bathroom in their tottering heels and tight mini-skirts. She flipped open the cell and began dialling. She had to restart a few times because her hands were shaking so much.

Finally she pressed the phone against her ears.

"_Hello Dr Wilson speaking, head of oncology," _

"jimmy," Rachel called out tearfully. "Can you come and get me?"

**As ever, keep those reviews coming! I really love hearing feedback!**


	27. Sanctuary

Wilson placed a knitted quilt over Rachel as she shuddered, resting tiredly on his sofa. He sighed. Stacy stood behind his desk, watching quietly. Her arms were folded and she hadn't even bothered touching her coffee. Wilson around at her, his hands on his hips.

"You can sit down," He said, glancing towards the spare chairs in the tiny office.

Stacy shook her head. "I'd rather stand," She said.

Wilson nodded. He sat beside his desk. "What do we do?"

"I don't know," Stacy replied.

"Well that helps!" Wilson replied exasperated. "You are supposed to know this stuff!"

"It's not my fault," Stacy snapped. "You should have called me _before _you decided to act all Brue Willis and take Rachel outta school."

"She was distressed!" The Oncologist argued.

"Does House know she's here?" Stacy asked.

Wilson frowned a little. "No," Stacy sighed, putting her head in her hands. "Listen, just say it was an organized visit. You just forgot to fill in the paperwork!"

"I can't!" Stacy said. "Visits have to be arranged at least six weeks before said visit. Otherwise there's no visit! And there is no compromise!"

"Well, tell them… The paperwork got lost…"

"Blame my secretary? Yeah, that'll go down well with H.R." Stacy said sarcastically. She rubbed her forehead.

"Well, there is always the third option," Wilson said, sadly.

"What's that?" Stacy asked.

"Don't let House see her," He looked at the lawyer.

"It's a thought,"

"Or…" Wilson said. "There's a fourth option,"

"I thought choices only came in packs of three," Stacy said.

"Buy a pack get one free kinda offer at the store," Wilson quipped. "Just don't tell anyone,"

"People might see," Stacy said.

"Not necessarily," Wilson replied. He stared pointedly at the balcony that connected both House's and his. He then looked at Rachel. "She needs her dad,"

Stacy was still staring at the balcony. Slowly she turned to the oncologist. "Alright," She said.

….

Wilson taped a note on the door and slipped back into his office. Stacy had closed the blinds and locked the door behind Wilson. The oncologist took out his cell phone and dialled House's number.

"_Yeah?"_

"House, can you come to my office? I have to show you something,"

"_If you're gonna try and get me to diagnose the weird pusses on your penis again, I'm sorry, I just had lunch,"_

Wilson blushed slightly. "Nothing like that," He muttered. "Just get here now, and come via the balcony," He snapped the cell phone shut and tucked it back in his pocket.

"How long is he gonna be?" Stacy asked.

"It's House, it could be anything from a few minutes to hours," Wilson shrugged.

….

House sighed and gave the popcorn bucket to Green and stood up.

"Where are you going?" Green asked.

"To see why you're not dying as quick as you should be," House retorted.

Green frowned. "So the clothes changed nothing?"

House tugged at the collar of his suit. He pursed his lips. "Sorry," He said. "That was rude of me," He picked up his cane that was hanging from the back of his chair. "I'll see you later," He said.

House slid the door open and limped in the general direction of his office.

"House!" Katie said trying to catch up with him. "I need you for a moment,"

"Take it up with Foreman," House replied. "I have to see Wilson."

Katie frowned. "Wilson's out for lunch, there's a note on his office door,"

House turned to her. "All the more reason to go to Wilson's office. He keeps a wad of cash stuffed in the bottom of an obscene looking teddy bear."

He limped off, leaving Katie standing on her own.

Once at his office he pulled off his tie and stuffed it in a drawer. He quickly undid the top three buttons of his shirt and went over to the balcony. He pulled himself over the wall dividing it, wincing slightly. He tried opening the door to Wilson's office. But it was locked.

He banged his fist against the glass. "Hey! Wilson!"

There was a click and the door swung open to reveal a distressed Stacy and a fearful looking Wilson.

"Stacy? What the hell?" House looked at them both. Wilson glanced around his friend's shoulder, then the both of them grabbed House's arms and yanked him into the office.

"Get off!" House snapped. "What the hell is wrong with y-" He stopped as he saw Rachel lying on the sofa. He tossed his cane to the side and dropped to his knees, crawling towards her. She looked up blearily at her father.

"Daddy," She whispered.

"Hey, Rache," He said, putting a hand to her face.

She smiled softly. "I'm dreaming…"

"Well that would explain it. But it wouldn't explain Wilson not wearing his traditional monkey suit and Stacy dancing with a giraffe."

"This is my dream dad," Rachel replied. "Not yours,"

House frowned. "If it was a dream, it would be our mom comforting you," He said.

Rachel blinked, slowly her hand reached out to House's face. It touched the familiar bristle of his cheek. He put his hand on hers.

"Daddy?" She whispered.

"I'm here Rache,"

Rachel pushed away the quilt and grabbed her father around the neck, pulling him into a tight hug. House hesitated for a moment; he put his arms around her waist and held her tightly.

"I just… I couldn't… It just… Everything… It just hit… I…"

"Shh," House said. "It's okay, I know…"

She buried her head into his shoulder. "I just want to come home," She whispered.

House lifted himself onto the couch and let his daughter rest her head on his lap. He stroked her hair without realizing it. He looked up at Wilson and Stacy.

"What happened?" He asked quietly.

Wilson sighed. "She called me. She was crying. I picked her up, she was distraught about something. She wouldn't say."

"It's only natural." Stacy said. "Her life has been completely interrupted by this. She can't have her friends around, she can't go out with boys-"

House's head lifted. "Someone asked her out?"

Stacy shrugged. "We don't know. But I honestly wouldn't be surprised. House pursed his lips looking down at his little girl's sleeping face. He wasn't sure how to react. His baby girl was growing up.

"Well… She could easily… I mean… She's… I'm sure if she liked him… If he was good to her… It wouldn't…" House said.

"We know," Stacy said. Wilson nodded.

"How do you deal with a kid that wants to date but can't?" House asked.

"Don't know," Wilson said. "All my kids are younger than her. I'm praying that they never date, never have sex and don't get married till at least they are 40-year-old virgins who work non-stop at research."

"Big ambitions," House said.

Wilson shrugged. "I'm not prepared to be called 'grandpa' yet."

House smirked. He tucked a strand of hair behind Rachel's ear. He rubbed her shoulder. "I've missed being here for her," He said. He looked up at them. "I've missed, just hearing her breathe. Her witty comebacks when I tell her to clean her room…" He swiftly looked at her again. "You know, ironically, her mother would be the person trying to help me out here." He leaned back and chuckled slightly.

…

House kissed Rachel's forehead as he placed the quilt over her. Stacy had went to fetch coffee, but Wilson had stayed.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" Rachel asked sleepily.

"No," He replied. "When you wake up, you'll have to go back to the home. Stacy has you down as just visiting Wilson. Not me."

Rachel sighed. "Okay…" She whispered, before falling to sleep.

House grabbed his cane and pushed himself up. Wilson grabbed under his arm and pulled him up.

"Thanks," House muttered, wiping his pant knees. "Best leave her here until she feels well enough to go back."

"Is that your opinion as a doctor or as a father?" Wilson asked.

House looked back at the tiny sleeping figure of his daughter. He smiled softly. "Both, I think." He turned back to Wilson. "Take care of her for me."

Wilson nodded. "Sure. As long as you don't do anything stupid."

"Have you met me?" House asked.

"Unfortunately, yes" Wilson replied. "If I hadn't I would be sipping barcardi's in St Tropez still happily married to Bonnie,"

House smiled. "Yeah, sorry about that,"

Wilson shrugged. "I wouldn't have it any other way to be honest."

"Thanks Jimmy,"


	28. Judgement

House shifted his tie. His body was shaking and sweat dripped from his brow. He wiped it away and looked nervously around the courtroom. Usually he wasn't too bothered about getting sued or what not, but… If he lost this battle that would be it. No Rachel. No taking her to prom. No walking her up the aisle. Nothing. He would be erased from her life. Almost like he and Lisa had never existed. Rachel sat on the other side of the courtroom. She had grown up significantly. Or at least, that would be what it seemed. She wore a simple black dress that fell just above her knees and dangerous looking black stilettos. But House could see that she was still the same 13 year-old girl trying to get through. Simon sat beside her. He smiled at House, and put his arm around Rachel. Rachel stared at him and shrugged him away, giving him an evil glare. Fury filled House up, but he couldn't go over and knock him out. Stacy placed a gentle hand on his.

"Listen," She whispered. "If I thought you were going to lose, I would have said something. But they have absolutely nothing on you. And we have the tape."

House nodded, not really paying attention. Wilson tapped his shoulder, he looked around at the seats.

"Hey, how are you holding up?" The Oncologist asked.

House sighed. "I feel like crap."

"Well, it's understandable." Wilson shrugged. "You look like crap."

"I couldn't sleep last night," House replied.

"Your leg hurt?"

House didn't reply.

"All rise, for the honourable Judge Eli Jones."

The entire courtroom rose to its feet. House was one of the last to rise, leaning heavily on his left leg. Jones was a plump Nigerian with several rings around his fat fingers. But he had an air to him that was almost… Comforting.

He sat down and hit the gable. "Court is in session. This trial is one against Dr Gregory Jonathon House against that of Simon Wells. I have read the notes upon both cases, but wish to hear the prosecutor and defendant speak freely. Shall we start with the prosecutor's case?"

Simon's lawyer stood up. "Your honour, Mr Wells, is a polite, respected man who wants nothing more than to be with his daughter Rachel Wells."

"It says Rachel House on the forms," Jones interrupted.

"Mr Wells gets upset when his daughter is referred to as Dr House's child." The lawyer replied.

Jones leaned back. "Okay, continue,"

"Well Mr Wells is aware of sexual abuse that has taken place to his daughter by Dr House."

"How? Is there any evidence?" Jones asked.

"Well, none to speak of," The lawyer replied.

"Then how do you know she was abused?" Jones asked. "Is there a statement from Ms Wells?" The lawyer said nothing, he looked nervous. Jones spoke again. "I have reviewed the notes, and there is no statement from Rachel. She is the pinnacle point of the entire case, yet there is nothing."

Simon yanked at the sleeve of his lawyer and whispered into his ear. The lawyer nodded. "Your honour, we do have evidence." He said. The lawyer handed a file to a guard who took it up to Jones. Jones put on his glasses and read it.

He cleared his throat. "Call Ms Rachel House to the stand," He ordered.

The courtroom turned their heads to Rachel who sat nervously. Breathing hard, she stood up stumbling slightly to the box beside Jones.

"'Lo," He greeted, warm and friendly. "Now, can you please state your name for the court?"

Rachel took a deep breath. "I-I'm Rachel Lisa House," She said.

"So you're name is not Rachel Madeline Wells?" Jones asked. She shook her head. Jones leaned down and showed her the piece of paper. "Is this your signature?" He asked politely.

Rachel frowned. She took the file from Jones and read it through. "This is…" She looked up. "Your honour this is… It's not my signature!"

"Is it your statement?" Jones asked.

Rachel read the entire page. The courtroom held their breath in anticipation. Tears spilled from her eyes as she read it.

"Rachel?" Jones asked.

She blinked and returned to look at him. "Your honour, I… I have never said anything like this, how could anyone… I…"

"Your honour," Stacy said. "She's clearly upset. I request that Dr James Wilson take her out of the courtroom so that she can settle down, then return when she feels well enough,"

"I refuse to let my daughter out of my sight," Simon said. "Upset or not, this will be carried out in her presence."

"Silence," Barked Jones, he took the file from Rachel's fingers. "Mrs Warner you get your wish, Dr Wilson please escort Rachel from the room and alert the guards when you wish to re-enter,"

Wilson nodded and stood up as Rachel made her way to his side. He placed his hands on her shoulders and led her out the room. House stood up abruptly and watched her leave.

"Dr House," Jones said. "Where do you think you're going?"

House bit his lip and looked down at Stacy. He wanted to go after her. He looked up at the judge then sighed. "Nowhere, your honour."

"Then sit down," Jones said. "I will now read out 'Rachel's' statement," He cleared his throat and pushed his glasses further up his nose and then licked his lips. "'My father and I have always had an uneasy relationship. Sometimes I felt as if he blamed me for my mother's death. He is indefinitely a drug addict and though on many times he has tried to explain it to me, I always felt as if he was only taking the vicodin to get high. He never let me do anything on my own. Phone calls were restricted and I was hardly ever allowed on the internet. He called me pathetic and hit me with violent abusive slur quite often when he was drunk. I much preferred him to be drunk though. When he was sober he knew what he was doing and that made the heartache all the worse. He used to take me to strange places when I was young, stuff socks down my throat to stop me from screaming. He made me feel insecure. I ended up self-harming. He used to tell me that it was our little secret. That it was natural and to trust him. He was a doctor after all. I was young, I wasn't sure what to believe. I hated him for long periods of time. He destroyed my faith in god, and on Christmases he would repeatedly hit me with his cane, telling me that Santa never came because I was being naughty,' I could go on but the violent imagery gets rather nasty," Jones finished. He looked up. "Who collected this statement? It doesn't have a signature that I recognize,"

"That would be me, sir," Simon said.

"You do realize that Statements are collected and kept by the police," Jones said.

"With all due respect, your honour," Simon said. "The police aren't really what you call the best at their jobs."

"I see," Jones' attention was drawn to House, who had his head in his hands. "Is that remorse Dr House?"

Stacy stood up again. "Dr. House is clearly upset. He was hoping that this trial would never come because he was scared that evidence would be fabricated against him. He is distraught that someone could make up, let alone perform the acts you have spoken about from his daughter's apparent statement,"

Jones peered down his spectacles. "Are you sure its not remorse?"

Stacy shook her head. "In the twenty years that I have known Greg," She replied. "He has never expressed remorse for anything he has done. He loves his daughter. You only have to be in a room with the both of them to see how much they love and respect each other."

"Dr. House has a bit of a reputation," Jones said.

"And he stopped his renegades immediately after Rachel was entrusted in his care." Stacy supplied. Jones skimmed the rest of the statement. "Your honour, I think that statement was created by Simon,"

Simon gave her a glare. But said nothing.

"Mr Wells, you do realize that fabricating evidence is an offence in the court of law." He turned to House and Stacy. "I'm bored of him. I am fed up of people treating me like an idiot. I have seen all the case notes and Mr Wells, you failed to inform the court of your redundancy for fraud. Mrs Warner," Jones said. "Trust me; I do not believe Mr. Wells for a second. That is why I have declared that this court case be adjourned and Dr. House should have his daughter returned to him. I'm not even sure how this case came to be. The preliminary hearing should have thrown it out."

"Objection!" Shrieked Simon.

"Shut up," Jones snapped. He leaned forward. "Mr Wells, I don't know what your beef with Dr House is. I don't care. But he has not done a thing to you in the thirteen years that he has taken care of your biological offspring,"

"Your honour," Stacy said. "I know how Simon managed to get this case to proceed to full trial," She pulled out the tape recorder and a transcript of the conversation. She handed them to the guard. "On the 15th of November, Rachel requested to see Simon. Her first visit was uneventful. But she requested to see him again on the 16th. Subsequently she took a recorder into the room to capture a confession."

Simon stood up. "You tape recorded me?" He seethed. "How dare you!"

"Sit down!" Jones ordered. "Your case is sloppy and pathetic. It is quite amusing actually." He chuckled to himself and hit play.

Simon's voice rang out in the room.

"_You again? Fuck this, I'm gone," _

"_Curious isn't it?" _

"_What is?" _

"_You are so willing to get out of my way, yet you have put these claims forward because you care about me. Why is that?"_

"_If I told you the truth, then you would think me selfish."_

"_I already think you're selfish. You seem to only care about yourself. You have ruined nearly a year of my life. I am permanently tired and unhappy. I haven't seen my dad in nearly four months. My grades are slipping. My dad has gone through several serious attempts to detox completely-"_

"_Lies! He's still pops pills!"_

"_That Dr Cameron prescribes! Did you bribe them to take the case?"_

"_No matter what I say, I cannot prove my innocence to you,"_

"_No,"_

"_You're as stubborn as House," _

"_I hope so, if anything my father's determination is what's keeping me strong."_

"_How many times must I fucking tell you that he is not your father?"_

"_I'll stop making you say it if you tell me that you did bribe them,"_

"_I guess you learned manipulation from your father too?" _

"_No. I figured it out on my own. Did you bribe them?"_

"_No,"_

"_Did you bribe them, Simon?" _

"_You will address me as 'dad'!"_

"_No! Did you bribe them?"_

"_NO!"_

"_Did you bribe them?"_

"_No!"_

"_Did you bribe them?" _

"_Would you fucking shut up you little whore!" Simon shrieked. "Of course I fucking bribed them? Otherwise the case wouldn't have gone to fucking court!"_

"_It's not like you can prove it anyway,"_

"_Rachel," _Stacy's voice had been added. _"It's time to go home,"_

Jones slammed the tape down. "I've heard enough," He said.

"Objection!" Shrieked Simon again.

"To what?" Jones asked.

"To that… Pack of lies!" Simon raised his hand and pointed to the tape recorder then back to House and Stacy.

"I can see why you were fired," Jones said. "You're really bad at this at this whole Lawyer thing." He then peered above his specs. "Bribing is a serious offence. It is a disgust that marks everything wrong with this country's justice system. It is people like you who are ruining many happy families today. Like I said, court adjourned. Dr. House, you are free to go. Mr Wells, you will be taken to court for your actions in six weeks time."

He stood up and left. House breathed a sigh of relief. Rachel smiled over at him. Simon shaking in anger. He stood up and bellowed;

"You fucking bastard!" He grabbed the Guard's gun and then pointed it at House. House stared at it. There was a loud bang, somewhat near to an explosion. House's leg seemed to buckle. He grabbed it, realizing it was wet. He raised his hand and saw blood. The entire courtroom was filled with screaming as he fell to the floor. There was another loud gunshot and for House, everything went black.

**You guys know that I love your comments! Please please please review and let me know what you think! Last chapter will be up soon!**


	29. Passing

Rachel leaned closer to her father. The beeping on the monitor filled her ears. She was silent as the grave. His steady breathing was the only thing that gave her comfort. But the bandage stuck to his collarbone did not. She hadn't washed in days; she had sat by his bed day in and day out wishing he would come in consciousness. Not knowing if he would. Her hair was scraped up into an untidy ponytail that sat ungracefully at the top of her head. She pushed a stray strand behind her ear, stroking her father's hair as he slept.

"Daddy," She whispered. "Please don't die. I need you. It's… It's not fair. The day I get you back is the day, well, it was supposed to be a happy day, not one of…" She paused biting her lip, "Simon was arrested and prosecuted. He's been tossed into jail. Six years for fraud and for firing using a guard's gun. He's still denying that the charges he made were false. Stacy's got people doing complete background checks on him. Dr. Stone is doing an entire psychological analysis while he's stuck in the jail cell. It'll probably end up that he had acute mental delusions due to trauma and something blah, blah, blah."

She touched his rough chin. "You won't remember the second bullet. It grazed your shoulder, missing your neck, but they had to give you surgery to get the bullet fragments outta your collarbone. You lost a lot of blood. Three transfusions. It's a good thing you had four doctors were there… You were in the operating room for a good two to three hours, I forget. I was too worried about you to be looking at the time..." She smiled softly, glancing up at the clock.

"People say that speaking to you helps. That it eases the pain of someone passing or something. The truth is, I'm doing this because I think that the sound of my voice will bring you back. Otherwise, Simon would have won. I want that as much as you do. I can't loose both my parents… I love you, and if you can't pull through this… I don't know what I'll do."

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up. It was Stacy. She sighed and kissed her father's forehead. His heartbeat quickened. Rachel frowned. Stacy looked at her. "That can't be good," She said. Stacy moved into the corridor calling for Wilson.

Rachel stared at her dad. Nurses began to rush about him, checking his sats etc. Wilson looked up. "Stacy will you get her outta here!" He barked.

Stacy obliged and pulled Rachel away. "No!" She shouted. "I wanna be with my dad!"

"Rachel, no," Stacy said firmly. "Let the doctors do the doctoring, we can do the visitor panic outside,"

"I have been dragged away from him for too long," Rachel snapped.

"No, you've got to come," Stacy said. Rachel looked at her father, knowing that he wouldn't want her to see him like this.

"I can't leave him," Rachel argued.

"Paddles," Wilson shouted. "Rachel get out!"

Stacy pulled the thirteen year old out by her elbows. She never once took her eyes off the fragile form of her dad.

…

Rachel was pacing. Her coffee was untouched on the table and was growing cold. In her fingers she twisted her tiny locket. Stacy was sitting sleepily on the red chair, her eyes half open and an empty cup of coffee still in her hand.

"Rachel please, sit down," Stacy murmured. "You're making my head spin."

Rachel turned to the lawyer. "How can you remain calm at a time like this? If dad dies, then I'll be left in the care of my only living relative and that's Simon or even worse, Simon's parents because he's locked up somewhere,"

"No," Stacy replied, still sleepy. "You won't,"

"How do you know?" She asked.

"Because," Stacy replied, rubbing her eyes, smudging her eyeliner a little. "House signed a legal paper before he went to court. Declaring that if he should die guardianship would be placed upon either Godfather James Wilson or Godmother Stacy Warner."

"Are you willing to take care of me?" Rachel asked.

Stacy shrugged. "Mark always wanted kids, and I'm too old to have any of my own,"

"And Wilson?"

"Would happily make you a member of his family," Stacy replied. "You have nothing to worry about."

Rachel fell silent. Her father had thought of everything. He went out of his way to make sure that if anything had happened to him, she would be safe, loved, cared for, taken care of… Whatever people might think about House, they were wrong. He would do anything for those he cared about, even if he only cared about a few. Rachel picked up her coffee and took the lid off. She took a tiny sip and shuddered. It was ice cold and now flavourless. She shoved it carelessly into a bin.

There was a familiar footfall that alerted Stacy and Rachel. They looked around to see Wilson and Foreman join them. They're faces looked… well…

…..

Rachel straightened her skirt. On her lap sat white roses. Wilson led her out of the car. He took her hand and led her through the graves. The grass was coated with a thick layer of frost that crunched under their treading. Rachel's sneakers barely made a noise though. Wilson's patent leather though… Well it was enough to waken the dead. They stopped at a grave.

"Do you really want to do this on your birthday?" He asked.

"You've already asked me this," She replied. "I'm as sure about this as I'll ever be,"

Wilson shrugged. "Alright then,"

She sighed, her frame shaking, not because of the cold, though she pulled her jacket closer. She pulled out a tiny envelope from her jacket pocket. She opened it slowly, hands nervous.

"_I know that you're long gone, that you'll never come back." _She read. _"I know that I should move on, but… Knowing you were beside me through the tears, the tantrums. You never left my side; through the good times and the bad. You will miss so much. My first kiss. My first break-up. The first time I stayed up to three in the morning eating cookie-dough ice-cream watching stupid movies. I can only say that I love you. And I will never stop loving you. And I hope… I pray, perhaps that's a better word in this concept although you never really did believe in that sorta stuff, that you will keep looking out for me, no matter how many times I screw up. I love you,"_

Rachel slipped the letter back into the envelope and kissed it. "And I hope you realize just how much," She placed the envelope onto the gravestone. Behind her she could hear the squeaking of wheels.

She looked around and saw her father being pushed by Stacy on his wheelchair. His cane hung on the back, in case he wanted to walk. Rachel took his hand as she placed the white roses along with the letter.

"She'll like them," House said. "White roses were your mother's favourite."

"Are you sure?" Rachel asked.

"Positive," House grinned. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, hating the fact that he was going to be stuck in it for a few weeks. As he shifted, he winced.

"Believing in the afterlife House?" Wilson asked.

House turned his head, looking at his friend. "God no," He pulled out a bottle of vicodin and tipped a tiny white pill into his mouth, swallowing it dry. He looked at the bottle. "It feels so good to hold you again, my dear, dear compadre!"

Rachel laughed. She kissed her dad's cheek. "I bloody missed you," She said, her green eyes twinkling as she smiled.

House grinned. "Of course you did! Who wouldn't?" He sighed. "Can I have a moment."

Rachel nodded. She, Stacy and Wilson stood aside. House rolled up to Lisa's grave and stroked the stone thoughtfully.

"I miss you, Lisa," He said. "I wish you could see how much we've both grown, and both changed. I wish you were here with me. I wish we had more time. But, wishing does little to help and this feels really stupid talking to a grave stone as if you were actually here. Because you're not. Not any more. And it's stupid for an atheist to be doing this. But I guess, it'll relive a lot of built up tension. I miss you, Lisa. And… I love you," He looked up. "Rache?" He called.

Rachel smiled and walked over to him. She kissed him on the cheek. "Talking to mom?" She asked. House nodded. "Mm… That's something I would never have expected," She smiled sweetly and took control of the wheelchair.

"Why don't we go home?" House asked. "You can make me a nice meal." Rachel laughed. "So," House said. "How's Matt?"

"How'd you find out about Matt?" She asked.

_**~ Fin**_

_**And "DAD" is finished. Its spin off "MOM" has already been started. I will be refining "DAD" so I want **__**lots **__**of comments about what I could improve, (don't bash my grammar; that's always been crap and it's not gonna improve soon)Tell me what you liked, what you hated, what kept you on the edge of your seat/bed/cage, whatever you tend to sit on – personally I like sitting on my bottom but maybe I'm just weird – what made you laugh, cry and shout mentally at me cursing me for my existence.**_

_**I wanna thank all you guys for sticking with me, even through the terrible chapters where I honestly thought I was going to hang myself – I honestly though they were rubbish. You guys were so loyal and I should have taken more time to thank you for your supportive and encouraging comments (Apart from "I Heart U all", seriously, do you think death threats are a way to get my attention? I don't care if you really love me! You are so not getting a Christmas present this year).**_

_**So you know, apart from "MOM" I will be creating other spin offs, including one about Cameron/Stephen the schizophrenic, one about Thirteen/Foreman, her dying and Foreman's grief. I will also be writing one about Lucas. Yay! (That is if I ever get the bloody time!) **_

_**Please, please, please comment and what not. ;) love you guys so much! Xxxxxx**_


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